


Pink Diamond

by Ryntaia



Series: Hooligan Havoc [1]
Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (Archie Comic), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Bounty Hunters, Gen, Mercenaries, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-05-22 19:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 42,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6091285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryntaia/pseuds/Ryntaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Team Hooligan was hired by a bratty heiress to a massive fortune, they really didn't know the trouble they were getting themselves into. But for a 50 million dollar pink diamond...they just might be willing to put up with it. Team Hooligan fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Diamond Deal

 

Chapter One

A Diamond Deal

 

            Nack would’ve killed for a smoke at that moment.

            Or a drink. Or ANYTHING to take his mind off of the situation at hand. He had always known that he would find himself on the wrong side of a set of bars someday, but the mercenary had always envisioned that such a situation would happen under less idiotic pretenses. That it would be punishment for some grand heist. Not for something as simple as robbing a corner store for a bag of chips and a measly two hundred in the register. He buried his face in his gloves with a groan.

            They had really needed the money. Eggman had been calling less and less, probably thanks to his team’s mounting inability to defeat the Freedom Fighters at ANYTHING. To top it off, rumors of their repeated business failures had spread like wildfire through the underground industry and now no one ELSE would hire them either. It was humiliating and pathetic for someone of his profession to resort to robbing a corner store but it had been either that or beg. Nack the Weasel had his pride, however crooked it may be.

            He was reconsidering it at the moment, though. Being stuffed in a cell with a massive polar bear unwilling to speak, and a duck that wouldn’t shut up tended to do that to a man. Bean had been wrapped in a few straightjackets to prevent him from bombing the walls, but the officers hadn’t done them the favor of taping the bird’s mouth shut. He seemed to be in an awfully good mood for someone who was in prison—it was almost infuriating.

            “Boy, it’s been a while since I’ve visited one of these places! Seems a lot bigger than last time. That’s pretty thoughtful of them, don’t you think?” Bean rattled on with a wide grin painted across his beak. He seemed to be staring absentmindedly at the wall across from them. “Y’know, usually, these places aren’t too reinforced. You’d think they would be, but no! Most of these walls could go down with some of the weakest bombs, y’know?”

            Scratch that, it was completely infuriating.

            “Well that would be nice if you could USE your damn bombs, wouldn’t it?!” Nack hissed, pushing the duck over on his side. Bean giggled childishly and rolled off the metal bench, making quick impact with the rock hard ground. Bark groaned, rising from his seat and lifting the duck back to his seat.

            “Not until you get the key for me, Tooth.” Bean snickered, bended to the side to showcase the lock twirled around the back of the straightjacket. Nack glared at it menacingly, as if trying to will the lock to explode so they could just leave already. It wasn’t working but he could dream. “Until then, we’re pretty much stuck right here until we get a lawyer.”

            “Yeah, I’m sure they’re gonna be real keen on getting us one as soon as possible. As opposed to finding some way to lock us up for life without a trial.” Nack griped under his breath. They may have not been having a winning streak lately, but the entirety of Team Hooligan was still very much on the list of wanted criminals. Their prior associations with Eggman only made them less popular in the public eye. If they could find some way to lock the three up for life with little conflict involved, the weasel was sure they would jump at the opportunity.

            Hell, they’d be lucky if the jailhouse didn’t just let the three mercenaries rot where they currently were for the rest of their lives. Nack always knew there was a downside to being a wanted man but he hadn’t planned on encountering his retribution anytime soon—hell, he hadn’t planned on encountering it anytime within his lifespan. Yet here he was, locked up tight in prison, with his fingers itching for the triggers of the guns that the officers had stored well out of his reach.

            “Just ain’t right to have a sniper without a gun.” He muttered to himself.

            “Maybe we should just accept that we’re screwed.” Bean shrugged. Nack didn’t bother to dignify the lunatic with an answer, just sliding his face back into his gloves. “Or maybe we’ll get bailed.”

            “Maybe in an alternate dimension. Who the hell would bail us?” Nack said, voice muffled by his hands.

            “I’ll bail you.”

            The weasel’s head shot up, staring stupidly at the bars separating his gang from freedom. Standing in front of them, shadowed by the darkness of the jailhouse, was a little girl. A little fox girl, to be precise, with fluffed white fur and black hair tied sloppily into a ponytail that seemed to be perpetually veering to the right. She wore a large French rose peacoat, with a powder pink scarf wrapped across her peach muzzle. Her matching gloves were wrapped tightly together behind her, resting atop her large white poof of a tail that curled around her red boots.

            She stared at them with wide, ice blue eyes, and all they could do was stare back.

            “….What the hell is a kid doing in the prison?” Nack finally managed as he jutted a thumb out towards the little girl. Her muzzle turned a noticeable red color, cheeks puffing up as her fingers tightened together. Then her lips pulled into a pursed, forced smile as she gestured the weasel forward. Nack snorted and kept his place. Bean, on the other hand, rolled quickly over to the strange girl.

            And she promptly hit him in the face with a band full of money.

            Bean tumbled backward, a misplaced laugh escaping from his beak, and was quickly caught by Bark and thrown onto the polar bear’s shoulder—and away from the reach of the small fox. Red eyes fixated on her with annoyance reflected in them. She simply glared back at the bear and the weasel behind him, fanning herself with the large wad of cash in her gloved hand.

            “You don’t get it, do you?” She finally snapped, temper breaking as she waved the wad of cash in front of them. Nack’s eyes traced the pile of bills with intrigue clear in his expression. “I’m here to HELP you! I’m gonna bail you out.”

            The weasel snapped out of his reverie, stepping in front of the yellow polar bear. “Who the hell are you? What’s your angle?”

            “My angle? I don’t…” She paused, scratching her muzzle and looking away to the side. “…well, I do have an angle, but you guys are criminals, right? Ain’t your concern to be getting out of prison, not what MY angle is?”

            “I tend to not take deals that have secret catches, and I just have this crazy sneaking suspicion that some little kid who I’ve never met before PROBABLY has some provisions in wanting to ‘help’ us out.” Nack commented, his tone smarmy and sarcastic. The fox’s face went red with frustration again, her hair twirling as she spun around to mumble to herself. “I don’t have qualm with gettin’ bailed out, kiddo, but you’re a little bit questionable.”

            She peered back at them, lower lip jutted out. “…Fine, I do have a provisible.”

            “Provision.”

            “PROVISION, yes.” She reddened even further. “I…I got a job, that I need done by some professionals. And I’ve heard that you three are pretty well known professionals in the world of stuff like this.”

            “Mercenary work.” Nack supplied, tone bored and expression amused.

            “YES, mercenary work. And I want to hire some mercenaries to do a job for me.” The fox girl clambered up against the bars of the cell, pushing the tip of her nose past the metal. “I’ll bust you out of here for it! All you have to do is find some people for me, that’s all. It’s a fair trade!”

            “I dunno. Does that sound fair to you two?” Nack gestured at the bear and the duck sharing his cell. Bark simply grunted, while Bean gave a loud, sharp, derisive laugh. “Yeah, I don’t know…we’re some top of the line mercenaries, shortstack. I’m just thinking that if you want us to work for you, that you need to add a LITTLE bit more incentive outside of just bailing us out of jail. After all, chances are in the long run that we’ll be able to do THAT on our own.”

            He was lying out his ass and all of the Hooligans knew it, but the fox child didn’t need to be in on that. And judging by the tears threatening to gather at the corners of her ice blue eyes, she had fell for the weasel’s crafty choice of words. Normally Nack wouldn’t play this kind of risky game when he was already behind bars but the kid’s clothing looked AWFULLY expensive…and she had introduced herself by slapping Bean in the face with money. She had to have something more to offer in this scenario and Nack planned to cheat her out of every cent if she wanted to play around in the field of mercenaries.

            “…Fine.” She muttered, reaching down to rummage about inside of her rose peacoat. With a grunt she loosened one of the metal buttons and pulled out a sizely black box to present to the caged criminals. They all leaned in with interest in their eyes (and in Nack’s case, greed).

            And with a flip of her pinky the box opened to present a gleaming pink diamond. It was easily the size of her entire hand, with each finely etched cut bringing out the sheer luminous glow of the massive gemstone. Not a single blemish seemed to scar the surface of the entrancing diamond, and if one were to guess, it was easily somewhere around ninety to a hundred carats in weight…if not more.

            “This is the Frost family pink diamond.” The fox girl said slowly, eyes tracing across the absolutely hypnotized look on all of their faces—Bean was practically drooling as he pressed his face desperately against the bars to get at the shining wonder. “It’s a steady one hundred and fifty carats, cut by some of the greatest gem smiths in history…the market price is about fifty million.”

            “An’….you’re offering this. To us.” Nack said slowly, still trying to digest the majestic glamor in front of him.

            “Yes.” The fox said sternly, slowly closing the box over the expensive diamond. She met his eyes—for a split second, the weasel could see a flash of determination within them. He was quickly distracted by the annoyed moan that Bean let out at the disappearance of the glorious shiny that the girl had been presenting them with. The weasel reached out a gloved hand and clamped the duck’s beak shut, sending a sleazy grin towards the little girl on the other side of the bars—she shivered a bit, but seemed to hold her ground (despite slipping the diamond case back into her jacket, earning another obnoxious cry from Bean).

            “Alright, Shiela. You’ve got yourself a deal. You bust us out of here and give us that lovely little lady in your jacket, and we’ll do whatever the hell you please.” Nack leaned forward, pressing his hand past the bars and against the white fox’s torso. She stepped back a bit, uncertainty returning to her eyes, before finally slipping her pink gloved hand into the leather covered ones of the mercenary.

            “I…it’s a deal. And…” She paused, averting her eyes and biting her lip. “…it’s not Shiela. It’s Stella. Stella Frost.”

            “Whatever, Shiela. Just hurry up and get us out of here so we can start on part two of this deal.” Nack said flippantly, leaning back against the wall, grabbing Bean by the back of his bandana to get the duck away from the bars. Stella stared blankly at them for a minute, then glanced at the clip of money in her hand. Slowly, she nodded, and backed out of the room.

            “This is a stupid deal.” Bean commented. Nack only grunted in reply.

           

 

     


	2. A Different Kind of Playtime

Chapter Two

A Different Kind of Playtime

 

            Nack stretched out his arms behind his head, yawning slightly and taking in the afternoon sun. They were in the middle of Station Square now, sitting on a bench next to a fountain that sparkled in the daylight. Bean had already crawled into the water, trying to catch the ‘shiny’ water in his hand while Bark tried to fish the duck out of the ceramic decoration. Nack shook his head in annoyance, turning his head away from the spectacle to look at the fidgeting fox next to him.

            The cops in the station had been anything but pleased when Stella had presented them with double the bail money—they had already set it ridiculously high to make sure the Hooligans weren’t let out. Then, to their utmost dismay, some little kid had strolled in willing to pay all of it and more. The look on their faces had been priceless. The weasel had been sure to shoot them all a smug grin before he was ‘escorted’ off the premises by the fox girl.

            Stella had been awkwardly quiet since then, though. She simply sat next to the weasel on the bench, hands clamped together as she waved her legs back and forth while staring uncomfortably at the cement sidewalk. Nack sighed, reaching around her head to yank one of the girl’s large fuzzy ears. Stella yelped loudly, pushing away from the weasel to the other end of the bench.

            “W-why’d ya…” She stammered, but Nack held up his hand.

            “You had a job for us, didn’t ya?” He questioned. She stared then nodded slowly. “Well, we ain’t got all day. The sooner you tell us the job, the sooner we can get it over with, the sooner we can get a piece of that LOVELY little gem that you’re carryin’ around with ya.”

            “You can’t have it until you finish.” Stella snapped as her hands grazed protectively over the front of her peacoat. Nack scoffed, glancing upwards as a shadow fell over them—Bark had retrieved the bomber, tucking Bean safely underneath his arm. The duck waved his fingers pleasantly at the fox and she puffed her cheeks up. “I’m not kidding! You can’t have it ‘til you finish the mission, okay?!”

            “That’s how it usually works, yeah.”

            “…I want you three to find my parents.” She muttered.

            “….Wot?” Nack asked incredulously, leaning in to stare at the little girl; one finger jabbed out to push right against his eye and the weasel jumped backwards screeching in pain. Ignoring his rolling and loud obscenities, Stella turned to look at the polar bear and duck behind her—Bean still wore his usual blank smile and curiosity seemed to fill Bark’s red eyes. She sighed, jumping down from the bench.

            “M’parents went missing about a year ago.” She explained, crouching down by Nack. The weasel just spat expletives at her, one hand covering his eye. “I’m in the care of my aunt right now, cuz the courts declared them both legally dead. But I don’t believe it. There isn’t any proof.”

            “That’s it?! Don’t stab me in the eyes just for that!” Nack snapped. He hauled himself up, slamming his foot against the bench. Stella scooted down the wooden surface slightly, towards the polar bear and duck—Bark grasped the back of her peacoat and she let out a yelp as she was lifted into the air to be situated on his free arm. “Bark, I swear to everything holy—“

            “Don’t get so worked up, Snaggletooth. You’ll ruin all the fun.” Bean interrupted, leaning against Bark’s head to look over at the little girl. Stella clung nervously to the fur of the polar bear’s massive arm, chin rested against the shoulder as her feet hung limply downwards. The duck laughed, offering her a hand and dragging her up to stand by him—the height didn’t seem to make the fox too comfortable. “Nack’s a real jerk, huh? He’s bad at getting stuff done too. What’s the maniac mission you got for us, little foxy-loxy-chicken-poxy?”

            “Uh….? I told you…”

            “We need more information than just FIND YER PARENTS, Shiela!” Nack shouted, trying and failing to scale the yellow furred behemoth that the girl stood atop. Bark took a paw and held the weasel down.

            “No, no…he’s right. If I’m gunna hire you three, you oughta have a little bit of an idea of what the heck is going on.” Stella replied. She flopped down to make herself comfortable on the bear’s shoulder. “Like I said. My parents went missing about a year ago. They went for a drive durin’ a snowstorm, to talk to an old family friend of ours…Dr. William Piniford. But they never came back, and shortly afterwards the police said they were dead.”

            “But you don’t believe it?”

            “No! I DON’T!” Stella huffed, slamming the back of her feet against the bear she sat on. Bark winced slightly. “They…they never found the bodies. An’ they never found the crash site, either. They just declared them dead, and they did it really quickly. I don’t know what’s going on but I think that there’s something weird about it. I think that someone is tryin’ to pull some sort of long scam on my family!”

            “And why would that be?” Nack asked, motioning to the polar bear. Bark obliged and scooped the weasel up in his paw, raising him to meet the fox’s eye level.

            “We, uh…we’re kinda pretty rich.” She admitted. Nack raised a brow, as if questioning how she thought they had yet to realize that. “An’…the inheritance to our fortune is in my name. But until I turn into an adult, the matter of who has the money is up in the air. It’s up for debate an’ a lot of folks have tried to make claims towards it since m’parents disappeared. Most of them have failed so far but it’s only a matter a’time according to the lawyers.”

            “So you’re gonna lose your shinies?” Bean questioned, leaning over Bark’s head to inspect the child. “How are you gonna pay us if you don’t have your shinies? We don’t come cheap and you already said we could have the really NICE shiny!”

            “That’s why I nicked it before I left. So I would have something for collateral.” Stella replied, pulling the box out of her coat again. Bean stared at it expectantly but the fox did not pop it open like before. “It’s rightfully mine anyway. And when you get to the bottom of my case, you can have it. Heck, if you want some extra MONEY I can throw that in too, though I can’t see why you’d need it with how much the diamond is really worth.”

            “As much as I love being wooed into business with a fifty million dollar diamond, I have to ask one more question.” Nack began. Pink gloves pulled the box back towards the carnelian coat, mistrust reflecting in icy blue eyes. “You’re lookin’ to have someone find your parents. You’re lookin’ to have someone solve your dumb case. So exactly why did you go to illegal mercenaries before you went to a detective agency or something like that?”

            A glint sparked in the fox’s eyes.

            “Mr. Weasel, I want them found quick…even if that means playing by rules that ain’t quite legal. Because I get this feelin’ that the folks who are out for my family fortune, well, they ain’t exactly done tryin’ to get at it yet.” Stella said solemnly. She tucked the box back into her jacket. “And if they ain’t gonna play legally…well, then neither am I.”

            “….Kid, I gotta say…” Nack chuckled, shaking his head. “I like the way you do playtime.”

 

\---------------------------------

 

            Atop a nearby high rise building sat a wolverine woman, dark brown fur accented with long stripes of white running down her back. She wore a black tank top, accented with patches sewn across the front. A light brown, leather jacket was tightly wound around her cargo jeans. The gusts of wind blew her tuft of slightly blonde curls around the binoculars held to her eyes—her free hand was cradling a pure white handgun against her leg as she gazed down at the gazebo.

            “It look like target has gotten some self-defensing. Group of mercenaries.” The wolverine muttered in a thick Russian accent. “Should I be shooting her now?”

            “ _No. Don’t be a fool, Svetlana. I want that child alive. I NEED that child alive._ ” A voice crackled back through the earpiece jammed in her round ear. “ _She hired a group of mercenaries? Who are they? Are they a threat to our operation?_ ”

            “Heaven forbid.” Svetlana snorted, taking the binoculars away from her eyes. “I have been work with some of them before. They are dangerous, yes, but they are also laughably incompetent. Especially the one they are consider their leader—he’s a walking monkey’s paw in term of bad luck. Hell, we would be lucky if he did not shoot her in face by accident.”

            “ _Complete accident, I’m sure._ ”

            “Well, they are not exactly legendary in reputation. The possibility of them making off with pink diamond and killing child is always a possible.” Svetlana mused. She produced a small bottle from her cargo jeans and took a long swig. “Is you want me to be killing the mercenaries instead? They could be getting in our way of getting child, and I think that Nack would be no trouble to take down…”

            “ _NO, Svetlana. Listen and use your ears for once. I don’t want anyone to die in this. Nonsense like that is too…traceable. We do NOT need an investigation that links a death back to the Frost family._ ” The voice snapped; Svetlana rolled her red eyes. Employers were always so concerned with that sort of nonsense. She figured they needed to live more on the edge and get a taste of living, but if the wolverine ever suggested that, she typically got fired. “ _Just tail these mercenaries and when the opportunity is right, snatch the girl and bring her back to me. No fuss, no muss, and NO KILLING._ ”

            “Yeah, yeah. Keep your panties on. I can do that. But I will be saying this, it is more complicated and difficult to do mission without the convenience of just shooting those who get in way. So perhaps maybe you could, I do not know…” Svetlana paused to let her implications sink in—the other side of the line was dead silent. “…you are knowing what I mean, yes? I COULD be using more of the reward if you are making job such a pain in the ass.”

            “ _You will get exactly what I offered you, no more and no less._ ” Her employer said crisply; Svetlana’s face fell, and then morphed into an expression of distaste. Her lips curled upwards into a growl, revealing a line of sharp white fangs. “ _Keep in mind, Ms. Vasin, that I am easily in a position to put you straight into jail again. There are plenty of other mercenaries willing to dip into my bank account, especially with the promise of eventually dipping into the Frost fortune. You are nothing special, wolverine, and do not make the mistake of thinking that you are. Good day._ ”

            With that, the line went dead.

            The wolverine pulled the earpiece off her head, throwing it down against the hard metal roof to smash it under her foot.

            “POSHYEL K CHYERTU, CUCHKA!! I WILL GET YOU FOR THIS!!”

 

 

 

 

           


	3. Woeful Will

Chapter Three

Woeful Will

 

            “So you’ve never even TOUCHED an explosive?” Bean asked; his voice was wrought with disbelief. Stella shrugged, lightly pushing aside the unlit bomb that was shoved in her face. Nack had chosen to shove the fox in Bean’s sidecar of the Marvelous Queen, primarily because she wouldn’t fit in Bark’s compartment. And Nack didn’t want the little snot climbing all over him while he was trying to drive—like hell he was going to risk the safety of his precious bike, even for the sake of a fifty million dollar pink diamond. The Marvelous Queen simply was worth more than that.

            They were coasting above the icy plains of the Aurora Icefield, sprays of snow flying behind them and burning up in the heat of the Marvelous Queen’s jet engines. There wasn’t much to be seen here; just an assortment of massive glaciers submerged deeply into the seemingly endless plane of frozen ice. A light dusting of snow seemed to line the entire expanse, piled up from a recent flurry.

            “You sure this guy lives here?! It seems like we ain’t getting anywhere fast, shortstack!” Nack yelled over the engine. Stella nodded briskly in reply. “Bark! You’re from here, right? You ever heard of this Dr. William Piniford?”

            The polar bear simply shook his head slowly and shrugged; Nack groaned, pulling down hard on the accelerator. The bike jumped a bit, then rocketed forward through the icy plains with little effort. The weasel grinned; some would insult the control power on his magnificent Marvelous Queen, but they were just too stupid to drive it right. She was a thing of beauty in the hands of someone who knew how to actually USE her.

            Despite the thrill of the ride, Nack couldn’t help but be concerned about the reply he got from Bark regarding the so-called doctor. The weasel couldn’t claim to know much about his teammates but he did know that Bark had been born and raised in the Aurora Icefields. It seemed like it would be a natural fact that if someone supposedly so important lived there, the polar bear would’ve had at least a passing knowledge of him—then again, Bark seemed to be naïve to the Frost family as well, so it was questionable if his being from Aurora meant that he actually knew anyone in the area. It seemed pretty spread out…

            “Damn lot of help these two are.” Nack muttered in irritation, shifting gears with a rough tug. “Kid! Exactly how far are we from this nimrod doctor’s house?!”

            “About twenty minutes north!” She shouted over the roar of the engine. “It’s easy to miss, though, cuz it was designed to look like the local flora and fauna! But there should be a bunch of tech junk behind a gate in the front of the glacier—he likes to work in the front yard a lot, so he might even be out in the yard!”

            “Oh good, we get to find one glacier out of a hundred. Sounds like a real great mission.” Nack snapped, veering the Marvelous Queen on course north. “Exactly why did you have to drag us way the hell out to the middle of NOWHERE for your little playtime mission?!”

            “It was your idea, Knick Knack.” Bean piped in. “You said he might know something since he was the weirdo that her parents were going to visit.”

            “….Thanks for the reminder, idiot. Is that his place there?” Nack growled, gesturing loosely in front of them. In the far distance was the dimmest outline of what appeared to be a wooden fence, circling around a fairly unassuming looking glacier. As they closed in the weasel caught sight of various mechanical parts lying both within and inside the wooden gates. Shifting his foot, he slid the airbike to a stop alongside the round barrier. Stella immediately jumped out.

            “Yep, you found it!” Stella exclaimed as she tugged at the lock on the gate. A frown quickly crossed her muzzle as she pulled harder, to no avail. “Why’s there a lock on his gate? There wasn’t a lock last time I came here.”

            “Because there are just some nasty, awful types who might break in and do bad stuff on his property.” Nack said dryly, pulling out his gun. A sharp banging rang out and the metal lock fell uselessly to be buried in the snow below. The three mercenaries strode through the now open gate, Bean rushing forward to slam his fists against the block of ice serving as a door. Bark pulled him back momentarily, but looked up when the jangles of an inner lock sounded—large yellow eyes were peering out from the other side.

            “Who are you three?” The voice from the other side of the ice was low and tired. “I assure you, there is nothing more I have to give. I’m completely strapped of the information that you seek. All I want is for you miscreants to leave me in peace so I can do my research.”

            “We typically go by ‘Hooligans’, actually.” Nack replied, placing his foot on the door and pushing it forward. The old man fell backwards, the light revealing him to be a rather large musk ox adorned with scholarly robes. “Thankfully for you, we ain’t here on a mission to take your trash from you. Matter a fact, lucky you! We’re here to drop some trash off instead.”

            “Hey! I’m still paying you, conman! You can’t talk like that about me when I’ve got a contract with you!” Stella snapped, stepping in front of the weasel to shove him backwards. Nack didn’t move an inch—he wasn’t exactly known for his strength but he sure as hell wasn’t going to get taken down by a seven-year old girl.

            “Miss Stella?” The girl looked away from her escort, over to the musk ox struggling to his feet with the help of a cane. The scholarly beast hobbled over to the fox, tussling her hair with one hand. The hoof drifted down from her hair to her face, running over the girl’s features—she did nothing aside from pursing her lips into a concerned frown. “Yes…yes, it is you, isn’t it? It’s been such a long time.”

            “Your sight has gotten worse, Dr. Piniford.”

            “Sadly yes.” The ox sighed. He pulled a small pair of spectacles out of his breast pocket to place over his grey eyes. “Nowadays even these do very little to help me see. You may stand in front of me now but all I see is a small grey blob…but it is not of importance. I am an old man and my sight is just bound to go. More importantly, child, what are YOU doing here? Shouldn’t you be at Frost Manor with your aunt? The staff has been calling around nonstop to find you…”

            “I ran away.” Stella huffed—Piniford had surprisingly little reaction to that. “I’m gonna find mom and dad, no matter what it takes! So—“

            “Yeah, long story short, Shiela here thinks you might know something about this bull since you were the last person to see them alive.” Nack interrupted. The musk ox fixed his broken gaze on the weasel—even knowing that the doctor couldn’t see him, the look in his eyes was somewhat discomforting. “…So, can you tell us anything? We kinda ain’t got time for screwing around and there’s a pretty nice reward on the line.”

            “Such unsavory men you have recruited to do your quest, Stella.” Piniford stated calmly as he hobbled away to settle himself in a nearby chair, nearly missing the seat in the process. Bark strode across the room quickly to push the chair into the old man’s trajectory and the ox smiled to himself. “Mostly unsavory, I suppose. Are you really so desperate that you would hire such sleaze?”

            “Hey, Professor Eyesight, you got a lot of books in here!” Bean cried out—he had scaled one of the bookshelves to begin throwing the tomes on the ground. Bark was attempting to grab the duck and bring him down, but he couldn’t quick reach the height Bean had scaled to. “But you don’t got anything INTERESTING! It needs more treasure, more explosions, more SHINY! Like this one, this one has a shiny cover!”

            “….sleaze, and lunatics…” Piniford sighed. Stella puffed up her cheeks in annoyance. “I was aware that you were determined to find them, Stella, but I didn’t realize you had reached the point of leaving your aunt’s care for the company of questionable mercenaries.”

            “…Please, doctor, just…just don’t. You…you’re just tryin’ to distract me. I know you know something, and I know you’ve been keeping it from me.” Stella whispered. The ox bowed his head slightly. “I need to know. I won’t go home until I know what happened.”

            “And until she goes home, we ain’t getting paid, so I suggest you spill the beans.” The doctor flinched slightly, feeling the cold touch of a gun pressed against his forehead. Nack had moved to crouch on one of the armrests of the chair Piniford sat on, his weapon situated straight between the temples of the old man’s head. “What d’ya know about the kid’s parents?”

            “Nack!” Stella shrieked, rushing forward to knock the gun out of the weasel’s hands. He jumped down from his post and fixated the fox with a glare. “Don’t do that to Dr. Piniford! He’s a friend, not an enemy!”

            “Ain’t nothin’ of neither, just people who have the information that we need. How th’ hell am I supposed to do this work if ya keep pulling crap like that?” Nack snapped under his breath; his complaints went ignored, overshadowed by a long sigh from the musk ox nestled in his massive chair.

            “I am an old man, you miscreants, and as such I know many things. Many a knave has come to my abode in an attempt to swindle me out my knowledge, and for nothing more than their own gain of money. A paltry, silly thing that in the end gives a person nothing they truly desire.” The ox closed his eyes. “But since your client is a family friend, and seeking something far more important, I am willing to share the private facts that I will eventually die by.”

            “D-die by?” Stella stuttered. The ox gave her a woeful, tired smile.

            “It is of no importance. Don’t bother yourself…it is just the exaggerations of an elderly scholar.” Piniford reassured. Nack watched the musk ox closely; working in the line of business the weasel did, one came to know when someone wasn’t telling the truth. And this old man was lying with the best of them. “You, the one who called himself a Hooligan. I will need your attention to assure you have the knowledge to protect this child.”

            “M’name is Nack. And I’ll ‘protect’ the kid to the fully extent of the paycheck she’s handin’ to us.” The sniper placed his foot on the side of the plush chair and leaned in, grinning menacingly—it was meaningless in action, and received only with a blank half-blind stare. “Which at the moment, hey, is shaping up to be pretty damn hefty. So present the hot info already.”

            “….Such a sleazy person.” The musk ox sighed. “But what must be done, must be done. Her parents did indeed disappear last year, when they came to talk to me—but they never made it here. You see, they never intended to come here in the first place.”

            “Well that contradicts what Poof Tail said!” Bean remarked from the top of the book shelf.

            “It contradicts what EVERYONE has said.” Nack commented, glancing at the white fox; Stella was simply staring at the doctor with poorly masked confusion apparent in her eyes.

            “That’s because they didn’t want anyone to know anything…and to be honest, I don’t know the full story. All I know is that your parents had become wise to a plot by some unknown ne’er do well…to kill them.” Piniford extended a hoof dramatically; both Stella and Bean gasped dramatically, although Bean’s seemed more sarcastic. Nack rolled his eyes. “I know little about the plan itself. Neither of them would tell me much. They said they didn’t want to put me in danger. Frankly, I believe they only let me in on what was happening because they needed a favor.”

            “A favor? What kind of favor would billionaires need from some old ox who lives in a block of ice?” Nack questioned. Piniford chuckled.

            “They asked me to write an inheritance will.”

            “An inheritance will!” Stella cried. “The one back at the mansion with my aunt?!”

            “The same, my dear. Although the one in your aunt’s position might not be exactly the same as the one I originally penned for your parents.” Piniford shook his head. “I haven’t read the will since I wrote it but I do know that no one should possibly have it.”

            “Care to let us in on why that is?” Nack groaned, gesturing impatiently with his hand.

            “So impatient. But I suppose impatience is the luxury of youth.” Piniford chortled; Nack found his fingers itching for a trigger. This old man was nothing short of a nuisance. “The reason no one should have their inheritance will is because there was only one copy, and they had it with them when they disappeared. Ergo, when they disappeared, so did that will.”

            “So what’s the one that Poof Tail’s aunt has?” Bean questioned, scuttling to the corner of the bookshelf to avoid Bark’s paws trying in vain to drag him off the top of the shelf.

            “I’m not sure. I do know that Vanessa Frost was very close to her brother, so perhaps she did in fact manage to secure a copy of the will via Stella’s father.” Piniford contemplated. “…But more likely is the theory that the copy in her hands is a forgery, possibly given to her with malicious means by whomever our ne’er do wells are. If that’s the case, the contents of that falsified document could bode poorly for the surviving Frost kin…especially Stella.”

            “Why her, exactly?” Nack leaned in. “Somethin’ we need to know?”

            “The original inheritance was split eighty-twenty between Stella and her aunt Vanessa, in Stella’s favor. And even without the will present, the majority of the fortune would eventually go to Stella, as their only living child.” Piniford explained. “I have no doubt that whoever was after the Frost family, they were after them in liu of their money—neither of them had any sort of lifelong enemies who would be after them for personal reasons. But if the person after them IS pursuing monetary gain and is doing so via a falsified will…”

            “…then its probably pretty unlikely that the fake will is gonna tilt in the kid’s favor.” Nack mused. Piniford nodded.

            “Precisely. It could very well leave the remaining Frost relatives out of money, and out of their home.”

            “An’ you got no idea who these so called ‘ne’er do wells’ are.” Nack groaned, dipping his head—they weren’t getting anywhere with this verbose old bastard.

            “Well, ultimately, the allure of a fortune could bring in many a money hungry individual. All it would take is for one of them to go the distance and commit to actually falsifying a will and removing the obstacles that were the current owners…and the current heiress, I beg to warn you.” Piniford fixated his fading eyesight on the white fox child; a shiver ran down her spine at the ominous implications. “…but I will also tell you this: I do not think whoever did this successfully dispatched your parents. I believe they went into hiding, unaware that the fake will had been produced.”

            “I know hitmen, old man. I am one, after all. If a body didn’t show up, then whoever was on the job of axing them off is still going at it.” Nack interrupted. “Especially if the rewards are as big as this scam seems to be. Whoever they are, they’re still hot on the tail of those rich bastards and will be until there’s tangible evidence that they’ve been taken care of.”

            “…Yes, I was afraid of that…” Piniford sighed. Nack snickered, shaking his head.

            “Don’t be, old man musk—yer stupid ass finally did something worth a damn.” The weasel pushed away from the arm of the couch, relaxing on his tail. “You gave me a new lead.”

 

\----------------------

 

            The musk ox watched from the gate of his yard as the Marvelous Queen sped away into the distant snowdrift. Piniford had always known that the Frost heiress was gung-ho, but to hire a bunch of clearly unbalanced mercenaries…he dipped his head in thought. She was so young, and so very desperate. It was difficult, he figured, being a child that age and losing parents. He almost regretted catching the child even further in the mess by telling her the scandal, but…

            ...well, he didn’t trust the girl’s new companions but it was clear that they were at least decently strong. Piniford figured he’d rather have Stella with someone who could protect her, even if they were only sticking around for the sake of the massive payout that would come from working for someone so rich. He sensed pure strength from the large and kindly one who had helped him with his chair, and pure unadulterated unpredictability from the bird that had been making a mess of his bookshelf. Creatures like that could be a true asset if utilized correctly.

            The weasel, though…he seemed untrustworthy. He seemed almost like the type of person who would have created this scam in the first place. Money was purely on his mind all the time, that much was clear to Piniford. He seemed to be the leader to the brawler and the lunatic, to top it off. It was discontenting but he supposed it was better than leaving Stella in the hands of someone who couldn’t do ANYTHING for her. And nowadays he wasn’t so sure if the fox’s aunt could provide the proper protection against the threat the Frost family had begun to face.

            He shivered; always so cold out here. Old age was so fickle—great in knowledge, but low in defense against the will of nature. The musk ox turned around to hobble back inside to the warmth of his home, tucking his glasses back into his robe. Now seemed like a good time to take a fine nap in his favorite chair.

            “You certainly are having of much knowledge, old man.”

            Piniford froze.

            The voice came from his chair—a thick Russian accent, clearly that of a woman. It sounded almost familiar somehow, but when he searched his memories, the scholar desperately realized that he could not muster up the thoughts that contained such a voice. He cursed himself for ignoring the intricacy of the individuals outside of their appearance—if he had only been more attentive before his sight began to go, it would have been so much easier to identify people.

            Whoever she was, though, she sounded unfriendly. Piniford could hear the loud click of a gun hammer. Hesitantly he reached for his spectacles, only to jump when a bullet lodged itself in the wall near his head.

            “I do not wish to being known by you, old man. I just came because of the knowings that you are having.” Her voice was slick, dishonest, full of malicious intent. “So MANY knowings that you are having. You are having so many knowings that it is become inconvenient. You are know that, of course?”

            Piniford straightened up, ignoring the pain that jolted down his back. He refused to not stand proud in this hour—his final hour. “I knew that the lackeys of those ne’er do wells would come for one day.”

            “You know, employer told me not to kill. To not be make evidence, you see. And that is the funny thing.” A click, followed by the sharp banging sound of a bullet burying itself in the doctor’s head. “No one will bother to check on you once you are dead, Mr. Piniford.”


	4. Get Along (Like a House on Fire)

Chapter Four

Get Along (Like a House on Fire)

 

 

            The building they approached was not particularly an inconspicuous one. One could have attributed that to the fact that it was selling itself as a small business, despite it being plastered with some of the most modern updates that technology could offer. They could also point out the fact that the establishment was plastered with posters advertising artillery, demolitions equipment, and other items of debatable legality. The biggest giveaway to the shady nature of the business, though, was the droves of suspicious looking individuals crowded around it—weapons at their sides, and ill intentions gleaming in their eyes.

            Stella curled fearfully against the side of the polar bear currently propping her up against his head—looking to the other side she was met with the enthusiastic grin of the explosive duck perched on Bark’s other shoulder. He seemed eerily comfortable with this place…familiar with it, even. Really, all of them did. She supposed that three mercenaries who were constantly either packing heat or capable of punching assailants into the next country wouldn’t be bothered by this kind of place. It was probably their specialty.

            Nack had his head bowed, though, using his hat to shade his face. Though he was very familiar with this particular agency—hell, it was the biggest in Mobius—he knew damn well that he wasn’t particularly wanted near it. Nack wasn’t really wanted near ANY agency. He wasn’t too sure if Bean and Bark were more welcome than he was, but taking a guess based on Bean’s habits, the weasel would have to guess that they weren’t. Especially since they were getting just as many glares as their boss was.

            “W-what is this place…?” Stella stuttered quietly.

            “On the outside? Hiring agency. Supposed to get jobs for people.” Nack replied as he pushed through the doors, still trying to avoid eye contact with those populating the general vicinity. “In reality they’re the biggest agency in Mobius for mercenaries that are willing to do work that’s, ah…on the less LEGAL side.”

            “So hitmen?”

            “Hitmen, thieves, whatever strikes ‘em. You can hire ‘em here. A lotta jobs go through here. If ya had known better you would’ve come here before hiring us.” Nack commented. “But you got the best in the industry instead of wasting yer time on some dime a dozen jackass.”

            “My dime is pretty impressive in comparison to your penny, boy.”

            Nack froze as a massive shadow fell over the three of them, both hands going to his hat to pull it completely over his face. Bark turned around to face them at the abnormally huge warthog towering over them—it seemed almost unnatural for a pig to grow to such insane proportions yet there he stood. Each of his tusks was sharpened to a razor tip, with patterns carved into the hard white bone. Messy fur seemed to be matted with a conglomeration of snot, mud, and some dried substance that the mercenaries could only assume was blood. A deceptive, poorly fitted suit was pulled across the boar’s massive back—unable to button up, it left his ratty and torn pinstripe vest to be seen. That, and the pair of fifty caliber wheel lock pistols tucked into his belt ringed in bullet cases.

            “Well, I’ll be damned, if it ain’t good ol’ Fang the Sniper! Oh, but ‘scuse me, it ain’t Fang, is it? Nack, innit tha’ right?” The massive warthog pushed past Bark, Bean, and Stella to pluck Nack’s hat off his head. The weasel cringed. “Been a long time since I see your ugly little mug around this place!”

            “It damn well has, Jeb, and ya won’t have to see me much longer.” Nack grinned—unconvincingly—as he spun around and grabbed his hat out of the hog’s hoof. “Because we ain’t here to talk to you, we’re here to talk to the owner of this fine hellhole that tries to pass for an establishment.”

            “Oh, is ya now?” Jeb leaned downwards, scrapping the tip of his tusk against the weasel’s face—a thin trail of blood ran down from the cut and Nack took a step back. The warthog let out a gruff chuckle. “You always was a little girl, you know that? Always runnin’ away at the first notice. But this time, you ain’t gonna be runnin’ away from ol’ Jeb the Tusk. Because ol’ Jeb the Tusk done bought this agency out a few years ago.”

            “WHAT?! You’re the OWNER now?!” Bark and Bean stared, the latter with perplexed amusement, at the extreme reaction from their boss. “Ahaha…you’re screwing with me, right? That’s it, RIGHT?”

            “Boy, I ain’t got nothin’ to gain from lying about this. In fact, I’d say I’ve got more to GAIN from it. HELL of a lot more.” Jeb leaned forward, fixing the weasel with a menacing grin. “You done been owin’ me some retribution for some of the crud you pulled over on me before, Nack.”

            “W-whoa now, that wasn’t my idea—“

            “BOY, I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD IF YOU ACCUSE MY DARLIN’ OF COMIN’ UP WITH YOUR SCAM!” Jeb roared, slamming one foot against the wooden floor—it groaned under the stress. Many of the mercenaries in the room were now mumbling to each other as they stared at the massive warthog and the now shivering weasel pressed up against the wall. The tusked beast wore an unmistakable snarl, thick rolls of spit rolling off his teeth as he reached for one of his guns.

            Before he could, a gloved hand rested on his shoulder.

            With a snort, the warthog turned to face the polar bear. Bark’s face was blank, but his fist was clenched in front of him. Aside his arm rested the green demolitions expert, fingers positioned and ready to summon a plethora of bombs. Still frothing at the mouth, Jeb cast an inspecting eye over the two Hooligans—just a quick glance could tell the boar that there was a substantial amount of muscle and strength underneath the thick yellow fur of the large bear. His little companion didn’t seem strong from a cursory glance but something about the way he held himself made Jeb somewhat…uncomfortable. There was something inherently threatening about the pair.

            He slowly released his grip on his gun and pulled his hand next to his head. A feral grin passed underneath the sharp bone of his tusks; all he received in response was a stern nod from Bark and a chuckle from the green bird on his arm.

            “Look, Stabby-slobber, we get that a lot of people have a grudge against Tooth but we’d also kinda prefer him not dead. Most of the time.” Bean explained casually, dropping his hand and draping himself against Bark’s arm. The pig raised an eyebrow. “According to Tooth we’re gonna be needing your help, so if you could maybe wait to kill him that’d be great. After all, aren’t you a business doer now? Not really the way to show yourself, y’know.”

            “Tch, business ‘doer’….jus’ look at that, boy, even your own team wants don’t like ya.” Jeb snorted, smacking the weasel out from against the wall with one large hoof. Nack stumbled forward awkwardly, landing in an undignified heap at Bark’s feet—the bear picked him up and slung him under his arm below Bean. “Not that it matters. I ain’t got no reason to do business with ya, and I ain’t got reason to HELP ya either. So go chase yer own tail somewhere else.”

            The warthog turned his back to the Hooligans, muttering to himself under his breath as he fixed his rumpled suit and misaligned cuffs. Stella peaked out from behind Bark to watch the giant lumbering off to his office door. She shot a reprimanding glare at Nack, patting her jacket where the diamond was hidden away. Her finger pointed insistently at the boar, then crossed over each over in the symbol of an X. Nack paled—this was seeming too close to the point of getting fired from the chance of a fifty million dollar payout.

            “I can pay you back!”

            Jeb paused, casting a glance back at the Hooligans.

            “What’d ya say to me, weasel?” The suited pig said. His tone was deceptively calm but his furious eyes spoke a different story. “Son…you stole a hefty million dollars from me five years ago, AND you had the audacity to try and take m’wife with ya. And if THAT weren’t enough, you decided to dump my beautiful lady in the middle a’ nowhere, take the money, and promptly lose it gamblin’. And you think you can PAY me BACK for that?”

            “I…if you help us find what we need to know, I can give you all your money back. DOUBLE your money!” Nack stuttered—he had to reassure himself that two million out of a fifty million dollar payout would still leave him a pretty amount of money. It still gained him some incredulous looks from Bean and Bark. Jeb tugged thoughtfully at his beard.

            “Triple. For losses. M’wife and I got divorced, y’know.”

            “TRIPLE?! You conniving—“ Nack hissed, only to have his tail roughly tugged by Stella. She glared at him and made the X symbol with her fingers again. “…FINE. Triple your money.”

            “…You’ve got yourself a deal, boy. Step into my office and I’ll help ya find whatever information yer sleazy little guts desire.” Jeb gestured them forward with one massive hoof. Stella pushed—pointlessly—against Bark’s back and he followed the warthog through a side door, Nack and Bean still hanging off him. A look of puzzlement passed over the warthog’s face when he saw the small child trailing behind the trio. “Who the hell is this? You adoptin’ now?”

            “She’s our client!” Bean chirped.

            “…Ya gotta be kiddin’ me.” Jeb muttered, closing the door behind the four.

            “ Afraid not, Jeb. Just trust me on this one.” Nack interrupted, flopping back into one of the chairs by the desk. His ego seemed to have returned full force once the imminent threat of being gorged was gone. It didn’t seem to impress the suited warthog, though—he just let out a derisive snort.

            “Trust YOU? That’s the funniest shit I’ve heard all day. And I hear some funny shit from the idiots who come in here tryin’ to fleece me for higher payin’ jobs.” Jeb groaned heavily, lowering his massive girth into the office chair behind the desk. “I’m just shootin’ in the dark by givin’ you the benefit of the doubt that you’ll come through on the money you say you’ll give me. It’d just be awfully nice to see yer half-assed self handin’ me three times the money you owe me.”

            “Yeah, yeah, you always were a kind and generous type.” Nack groused. “Can we get down to business?”

            “A’course, a’course. You came here for information, yeah? What exactly is it that yer needin’ to know?” Jeb rustled through the drawers of his desk to finally pull out a thick cigar, lighting it with a quick snap of a match. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised to see ya here askin’ me for information regardin’ a job. Ya usually do yer own recon work, or have one of yer stooges do it for ya.”

            “Yeah, well, my current stooges ain’t too there in the brains department.” Nack commented, dismissively waving an arm in Bark and Bean’s direction. The bird clutched at his chest to feign hurt. “Besides, this is the kind of information that only a place like your little agency here would have.”

            “Never thought I’d hear ya say that.” Jeb chuckled, leaning forward. “So what is it that this fine establish can get ya?”

            “I need to know if anyone here accepted a job with any relations to the Frost family, up in the Aurora Icefield.” Nack explained. “Who submitted the job for hire, who accepted it, and the final status of the job would be nice.”

            “Well, we don’t get many jobs up there. It’s a pretty barren place aside from a few local organizations and a eccentric billionaire or two.” Jeb mused. He spun his chair around to kick open one of the file cabinets behind him, leafing through the files. “Frost family, though, I think we’ve gotten a few requests not only regarding them but directly FROM them. They’ve got branches of their folks spread out all over Mobius. It’s just the main branch that lives in the Aurora Icefield.”

            “You seem to know an awful lot about this.”

            “Like I said, we ain’t just got requests regarding them. We’ve got requests directly from them. Never from the main branch, typically from the rotten fruit that they call an extended family.” Jeb replied. He stopped at one file, pushing his tusk through a hole punched in the top corner of the manila envelope. “This was the most recent one that had anythin’ to do with them, but I can’t tell ya if its really related or not. The request was put in about a year or two ago.”

            “That fits the timeline!” Stella interrupted. Nack slapped a hand over the girl’s mouth and shot a nervous smile at Jeb; the warthog simply raised a brow.

            “It’s a pretty standard request, by which I mean it’s pretty god damn obscure about the intentions. The person hirin’ didn’t disclose her name, jus’ set up a meeting spot with the hitman who took it on.” Jeb traced the file with his hoof as he explained the contents. “Not much specifics in here, jus’ that the job had somethin’ to do with the Frost family and would require someone willin’ to knock someone off.”

            “No employer disclosed? You’re sure?”

            “Yep. Says right here, big ol’ red letters, ‘name withheld’. Whoever it is, they don’t want to be know.” Jeb replied, still studying the document. Then, slowly but surely, a nasty grin spread across his face again. “Oh, this is rich.”

            “What? What’s so funny?” Bean jumped forward off of bark, pushing Nack’s hat down over his eyes and leaning over the weasel’s head. He growled and smacked the dynamo away. “Whaaaat? I just want to know! Man, you’re touchy.”

            “Trust me, duck, you wouldn’t get the joke even if I told it to you. The only ones who would get the joke of who the hitman is would be me, Nack…” Jeb paused, taking an almost self-satisfied puff from his cigar. “…and my dear sweet ex-wife, the fair Miss Svetlana Vasin, who started accepting mercenary jobs again a few years back.”

            Nack paled.

            “Oh no.”

           


	5. O' My Lady Misery

Chapter Five

O’ My Lady Misery

 

 

            “So…are we going to go anywhere, or are we just going to sit here in the parking lot doing nothing?”

            Stella’s question went ignored by the usually malicious weasel—he was too preoccupied with unconsciously gnawing at his own finger, sharp oversized fang biting roughly through the leather of his glove with ease. Not even biting down on his own finger and drawing blood seemed to bring the mercenary out of his reverie. Bark quickly reached out to roughly pull Nack’s hand away from his own mouth, earning him a look of confused surprise at the action and a heavy sigh at the spots of blood now dotting his white muzzle.

            “Bad habit, Snaggletooth.” Bean commented. It only earned him a fierce and annoyed glare, though somewhat underplayed as Nack had to busy himself with the spraycan of water pushed under the seat of the Marvelous Queen. It was kept on hand for occasions like this—that is, occasions where blood somehow managed to find itself splattered on one of the Hooligans. Such a thing tended to attract attention from people he wasn’t too interested in interacting with. Law-types, usually.

The bad habit of chewing his own fingers when he was frustrated hadn’t helped to keep that attention grabbing blood off of him, either. For the most part it had been curbed via Bean mockingly pointing it out, or Bark flat out forcing him stop. Regardless of those efforts, though, there were still long wrought scars curving across his fingers and the back of his palm thanks to that lovely little habit. He couldn’t really distance himself from the source, either—getting frustrated was just part of being a mercenary.

            Though right about now, Nack was certainly considering distancing himself from mercenary work. Or at the very least from this specific job.

            “You wanna give us the lowdown, Shoot-Em-Up? Or at least let us in on what our next move is? Not that I’m minding the whole ‘do nothing’ method or anything.” Bean said, slumping over the side of the compartment he was currently sharing with the little white fox child. “It might be nice to have a vacation for once.”

            “Cram it, Bean.” Nack snapped. Then he sighed heavily again, pressing his head against the handlebars of the Marvelous Queen. “Lowdown is this. Jeb the Tusk may hate me, but he’s at least willing to overcome that hate in the face of money. He’s a greedy piece of shit just like the lot of us. Svetlana Vasin, on the other hand, won’t be bribed. She’s greedy, self serving, and she don’t have a single shred of morality in her…but she ain’t gonna be bribed to our side.”

            “She doesn’t like you much, I suppose?” Stella said, tapping her fingers lightly against the side of her sidecar. “Based on what that big guy said, I can see why she wouldn’t be a big fan, but weren’t both of them involved in the same thing that made them hate you? Why would she hate you more?”

            “Because I promised her a perfect life if she went through the effort to screw over her husband, take a good half of his money, and run off with me.” Nack paused for a moment, as if unsure to continue. “…Halfway to the getaway location, she fell in a ditch and broke her leg. So I left without her and took th’ money with me. Spent it all on a fine weekend in the Casino Zone.”

            “You just LEFT her there?” Stella repeated, tone aghast. “No wonder they hate you so much.”

            “Yeah, neither of them was too pleased with what happened. No time I run into either of them turns out well.” Nack fished a cigarette out of his belt, lighting it up to tag a long drag off of it. “Can’t say I regret much of the shit I’ve done but having Jeb and Svetlana both after my hide makes me think that pullin’ that crap wasn’t my finest hour. ‘Specially since I lost all the money thanks to drinkin’ and gamblin’ the night away….point is, I can pay Jeb back and he’ll still hate me but he’ll be a little less inclined to KILL me. Svetlana, on the other hand…”

            “You can’t win over.”

            “Bingo. And knowing her, she probably already knows that I’m workin’ a job that’s related to her.” Another quick puff off of the cigarette situated between his fingers, accompanied by a rubbing to the temple of his forehead. With that he flicked the quickly dying bud to the side. “She just ain’t showed herself yet, that’s all. Probably already looked for an excuse to put a bullet in my head…”

            “…Are you backing out of my job?” Stella asked nervously, pushing herself over the edge of the sidecar to hang loosely over the side. Bean snickered slightly and placed a finger under her shoe, pressing up a bit. The fox immediately toppled out of the car and into a heap at Nack’s side.

            “Nah. But I might need a friendly reminder of how much that rock is worth. And some extra cash.” Nack muttered, begrudgingly offering his hand to pull the child back to her feet. “Or a lot of extra cash.”

            “It’s a fifty million dollar diamond. Do you really need more than that?”

            “Forty-seven million, with what Jeb is taking out of the profit. But you make a good point anyways. I could probably RETIRE after this bullshit is over.” Nack sighed, head flopping backwards to stare at the sky. It was a deceptively nice day, clear of clouds and fairly warm—if only the mood matched it, he thought wearily. “Alright, here’s the deal. What we have to do is find Svetlana Vasin. Problem is, Svetlana Vasin isn’t really the type to stay still.”

            “But you said she’s probably trailing us already.” Bean pointed out. Nack nodded. “So won’t she just find us?”

            “It’s always possible. Far as we know, she’s watchin’ us all right now.” The weasel mused. “Which I guess could be a good thing. She was always pretty skilled but I don’t think she’d do well in a three on one fight…either way, the closer we get to Svetlana Vasin, the closer we get to our payday. And I may just know some of her more frequent haunts.”

            “So you aren’t gonna quit?” Stella said hopefully. Nack shot her a wide grin and smacked her a few times on the top of her head—probably meant to be a pat, but lost in translation with his more abrasive manner.

            “I’d rather get her now when I have the advantage rather than waiting for her to catch me at a time when I ain’t got backup.” He snorted, grabbing the girl by the back of her jacket to toss her back into Bean’s sidecar. “So buckle up. I don’t want my cash cow dying before I can milk it.”

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

            The mountain of a man shuffled through his papers thoughtlessly, not really paying them much mind. Today had been an interesting day for Jeb the Tusk, and if he was lucky, all of it was going to result in a decent profit. Still, it couldn’t help but remind him of the older days. The days back when he wasn’t behind a desk filing papers on the antics of the other mercenaries of the world. The days when he always had his gun in hand and always had a job under his belt. The days when he was robbing banks and lining his own pockets with gold and silver, yet still evading the law.

The boar gave a heavy sigh. Those had been the days. Back during those times he knew himself to a true man of cunning skill. He could fire a gun and split a grape in two, cut even an honest man open with the jab of one tusk, and still get paid off for doing such questionable deeds. The only ruler he had was himself, and the allure shimmer of the glorious rewards behind his actions. Jeb had lived a life of luxury, thrill, and glory…but all glory had to end and it had eventually come to the safety and security of being in an office chair giving others the jobs he had once thrived on.

It was true that owning the agency was ultimately more stable but he wasn’t the type to live a life without thrill. It wasn’t nearly as profitable as doing dangerous, illegal jobs and it wasn’t nearly as exciting. He just sat here all day filing his paperwork and intimidating inferior mercenaries, musing about the off chance that something exciting would step through his door and give him something fun to do. Which Nack HAD, but he and his group of idiots had taken off just as quickly. As infuriating as it had been to see the man who cheated him out of his old fortune and his beautiful wife, it had not been enough to satiate the burning hunger to be back on the streets again. No amusement lasted long here, not like the amusement of being a bounty hunter had persisted so thoroughly.

            Jeb groaned, tapping his pen against the paper. Dwelling on the past was never a good thing to do, he found, but sometimes it just smacked him in the face.

            “You are not where I would think you would be being.” His pen stilled its tapping as Jeb glanced up at the doorway out of the corner of his eye. A light, breathy laugh emerged at the attempt to hide his surprise. “Do not be holding back, Jeb. It has been years, yes? To think that two who were so close are now so far.”

            “I ‘ppose it just comes with time and major backstabbing behavior, Svetlana.” Jeb replied coolly, setting his pen down to face the wolverine woman. She leaned against the wall of the door, having slinked in without him even noticing. One clawed hand was firmly planted on the edge of the door and ready to slam it shut. “If ya want a private meetin’ wit’ me, just close the door so we can git started.”

            “You never were one to be beating around any bushes.” She cooed mockingly as she slammed the wooden door shut. Her heels clicked up to stand in front of his massive desk, followed by one foot slamming down on the papers in front of him. “I have been notice that you are being visit by old friend.”

            “And what, m’dear, is your interest in that?” Jeb said smugly, extending a hoof to bring the wolverine’s face closer to him. She grinned menacingly at him. Lines of fangs glinted in the poor light of the flickering lightbulb above them as her fiery eyes drew the warthog into her gaze. “Ya wouldn’t be plannin’ revenge or any such thing, I hope. I have a bit of a business deal with who I’m thinkin’ you might be lookin’ for.”

            “Ooh, Jeb, always playing so hard to be catching.” Svetlana slid her hip up onto the desk, painted smile not leaving her lips. “But Jeb, you are not to understanding the scale of what is happening. You is thinking this is about something as simple as revenging, but it is never that simple in this line of work.”

            “Oh, never.”

            “I am having important job, Jeb. And I am having to finish it post haste. But your darling little ex-wife has been coming upon problem: I am outnumbered.” She scooted across the desk, situating herself in the warthog’s lap. He gave a satisfied snort. “I am having to retrieve little girl. But little girl is guarded by THREE mercenaries. I am good, Jeb, but I am thinking that maybe I am not THAT good.”

            “Ya can’t just stride into my office askin’ for my help without offerin’ me anythin’ in return, Svetlana. You of all people should know that.” The boar chuckled. He ran one hoof through her golden curls as one of her paws curled around the tusk furthest from her. They both knew where this would go, but the game was too fun to resist. “We ain’t been together for a long time anyways. I ain’t owing you a single thing.”

            “What if I can be promising you a good payout? A fantastic payout? A payout that, if successful, could have us rolling in the money?” Svetlana whispered in the hog’s ear. “A payout that would require you just to do one thing: tell me what I need to know, and help me kill a black hearted man with the guts of a liar.”

            “Well shit, woman. What’s the downside?”

            Svetlana grinned toothily.

           

 


	6. Twinkle Rhapsody

Chapter Six

Twinkle Rhapsody

 

 

            The sun was starting to fall behind the high-rise buildings that the Marvelous Queen was cruising alongside. It had been a long, tedious, unproductive day—while Svetlana Vasin apparently USED to frequent many places in Station Square, such antics had apparently come to a stop many a year ago. Nack was beginning to think that it was a fruitless effort to search for her in the city that he knew she once had loved and spent so much time in. He hadn’t seen the wolverine woman in over five years anyways, and the last time he HAD was in the distance as she screamed at him from a ditch. Such experiences tended to hamper one’s enthusiasm for…well, anything.

            She had probably got more caught up in her work since then, Nack mused. He knew that Jeb and Svetlana had divorced shortly after that…and most of these places he knew her to frequent had been places she often frequented with her husband. The weasel cringed; it wasn’t like him to feel bad but it was pretty obvious that the entire weight of that divorce had been on his back.

            Had been a nice night at the Casino Zone, though.

            “Hey, what’s that down there? It’s glowing.” Nack snapped to attention, glancing over at the little girl being loosely held inside the sidecar by Bean’s arm—not that the bird seemed too invested in it. He looked like he was nodding off, though both Nack and Bark knew that the dynamo would recover as soon as something even mildly exciting happened. He was more conscious than Bark, anyways, who seemed to have fallen asleep entirely. They had all had a pretty active few days so it didn’t particularly surprise Nack. “Hey, what IS it?”

            The gunslinger rolled his eyes and peered down below—they were flying over the Station Square amusement park that everyone seemed so gung-ho about. “’S Twinkle Park. It’s an amusement park.”

            “An amusement park? Here?”

            “Well, yeah, kid. It’s one of the best known in Mobius.” Nack cracked a small smile at the kid. “What, you never been? And here I would think a rich brat like you would be at Twinkle Park every day of the week.”

            “I…uhm, well…my family doesn’t leave the Aurora Icefields too often…” Stella mumbled, pulling weakly at the bottom of her peacoat and staring redfaced at her own feet. “We, uh…we always lived a little too far away from the city an’…uh, well, my parents only left on business and I usually jus’ stayed at the mansion with the nannies and my aunt…”

            “…You sayin’ you’ve NEVER been outside of your mansion before this?” Nack asked incredulously. Stella nodded nervously. “Cripes alive, kid, how sheltered ARE you? No wonder you’re such a massive pain in my ass.”

            “S-so, uh…” She leaned over the side again, gazing down at the bright and colorful lights of the amusement park. “What, uh, what’s there? At the, uh, Twilight Park?”

            “Twinkle Park.” Nack corrected and the girl’s muzzle flushed with an embarrassed powder pink blush. It’s a big ass amusement park, recently finished renovations from the floods and reopened. Got all sorts of junk, I guess…roller coasters, games, food, all that crap that’d keep a kid busy.”

            “Ooh. Roller coasters. I’ve never been on one of those.”

            “They’re fun, y’know? I got kicked out once because I threw a bomb off on the highest rise of one of the coasters! It was like, geez, I’m just trying to enhance the experience.” Bean butted in with a laugh. Stella didn’t bother to look at him; her eyes were solidly locked down on the shining indoors park below them. “I think my ban ran out last year, though.”

            “…Did it?” Stella said, voice monotonous as she leaned forward—the duck absentmindedly grabbed the back of her collar to pull her away from the side. The weasel watched her carefully—he had a bad feeling about where this was going. “…Hey, Nack, do you think…”

            “We ain’t got time, Shiela.” He snapped. “This ain’t no cruise, remember? We’re trying to finish your JOB.”

            “W-well, yeah, but…” She paused, then a wicked grin spread across her features. Gloved fists planted themselves firmly on her sides as she stood triumphantly in front of her hired mercenaries. “…but I’m the boss here! I’m the one who’s paying YOU, so you have to do what I say, right?”

            “…Technically…”

            “No technically about it, Snagglepuss.” Bean chortled. “She’s the one hittin’ YOU in the face with wads of cash, not the other way around. So are we goin’ to shiny town or what?”

            “She hit YOU in the face with the money, you jackass.” Nack hissed. Then he leaned back to take a deep breath—the idea of being used as an actual babysitter just for the sake of a job didn’t sit well with him but it was a LOT of money. He reassured himself that all it would take was a little patience (which he didn’t really have) and a small chunk of time (which NONE of them really had). Whether they had it not, though, they were technically in the brat’s employ…

            With a groan, he nodded—Stella squealed shrilly, jolting the polar bear aside them awake. Bark looked questioningly at his co-workers. Bean just grinned stupidly at his partner, gesturing down at the park, and Nack rolled his eyes as he began the Marvelous Queen’s descent down to street level.

 

\----------------------------------------------------

 

            Bean and Bark had disappeared the second they entered the park.

            Or, more precisely point, Bean had immediately gotten distracted by the excessive amount of glimmering and shining objects all around Twinkle Park and had dashed straight into the heart of the place with no second thoughts. Bark had followed after the duck as quickly as he could, but keeping up with the hyperactive explosives expert was not an easy task. They had both vanished into the fray of bright lights and excited patrons within a matter of minutes.

            Leaving Nack with…the kid.

            He had never been good with kids. Hell, he wasn’t even good with kids when he WAS a kid and it hadn’t gotten better as he grew up. Kids were loud, they were annoying, and they were obnoxiously moralistic. Too much television telling them that right prevailed over wrong, and that everything illegal was akin to being the devil or something. Kids had nothing but gasps and shrieks whenever they saw the weasel was packing heat, and nothing but whiny rants when they found out he took jobs from people on the supposed side of evil—like it was really that black and white.

            Point being, he didn’t like kids. They were stupid and annoying and his teammates had just done him the pleasure of sticking him with one. An EXCITED one, to boot—they always got worse when they were excited. All that bouncing around, loud excited tones, and general hyperactiveness.

            “I’ve never been to anything this pretty! There’s so much here! What d’ya do at a place like this?! Where d’ya go?!” She exclaimed, running back and forth around the weasel trying to get her bearings to the new and exciting place. Nack groaned and rubbed his temples—he was beginning to understand the purpose of child leashes a lot better now. “Wow, that one looks pretty scary. I don’t think I wanna go on THAT…”

            Nack looked up; the girl was standing behind a large crowd, gazing up at a massive roller coaster as the cars sped by at top speed. It was Twinkle Park’s largest, and supposedly most exciting, roller coaster. The weasel couldn’t help but let out a sharp chuckle—he doubted that Stella could even fulfill the height requirements to go on the ride she was so afraid of. She glanced back at him in confusion and he shook his head, moving forward to grab her arm and drag the fox away from the fray. It didn’t focus her in the slightest—ice blue eyes still darted around to look at all the stands that lined the glass walls.

            Then her eyes widened and she shook off the mercenary’s hand. Nack let out a small cry of protest as the little girl skipped over to one of the game stands to run her hands over a large, oversized blue plush doll. To the weasel’s utter annoyance he realized that it was a doll of Sonic, lined up next to several other plush replicas of the Freedom Fighters. He doubted Stella knew who they were, though, considering how clearly sheltered the rich brat was.

            “Excuse me there, young’un.” Stella’s face fell as the doll was plucked from her hands by a grinning dog. “I can’t have you be manhandlin’ my prizes, kiddo, or else they might get broken! And then no one is gonna want to play my game…unless YOU want to take a shot at it?”

            Stella glanced over at the stand that the doll had been hanging off of—it appeared to be some sort of airsoft shooting range game, with beat up dartboards lined up across the back of the stand. Four airsoft guns, fashioned to look like genuine rifles, rested against the front of the booth. Stella approached one hesitantly, pushing at it with her fingers.

            “I’ve never used a gun before.” She admitted. “Not even an airsoft one.”

            “Well now is your chance to! You could end up finding out you have great marksman skills there, princess.” The dog chortled. Nack snorted, leaning against the side of the booth. “It’s only five for three shots. Each ring on the dartboard is a different prize level…but oh no! That there is a fine plush toy you’re lookin’ at, and it can only be won with a bullseye shot. But I believe in ya…so how ‘bout it? Y’wanna give it a shot, kiddo?”

            Stella glanced at the toy hung on the wall, and then at Nack. The weasel shrugged and gestured at the rifles. Finally she reached into her pocket and produced the money, hanging it over to the fast talking dog. He snatched it up with a malicious grin that made Nack raise his eyebrow a bit—this guy seemed a little off, somehow. He talked too fast and his tone with Stella seemed to be almost sarcastic. Almost like he was mocking the little girl.

            The weasel watched carefully as the little fox mounted the rifle on her shoulder, focusing her gaze through the sight to aim at the dartboard in front of her. Her shoulders were shaking slightly, as was the finger that wrapped nervously around the trigger. Slowly, unsurely, she pulled down. A loud bang erupted from the airsoft gun, causing the girl to squeal and jump backwards—her arm caught the butt of the rifle and the BB careened into the ground. The canine carny let out a rumbling laugh and Nack cringed; this kid really hadn’t ever touched a gun in her life.

            With a sigh, he moved forward and pushed the fox up. Stella sent him a confused look. “Don’t get scared by the bang, it’s just a sound and it ain’t gonna hurt you. And don’t put the rifle on top of yer shoulder, hold it right here against yer collarbone. Don’t shake so much…okay, no, don’t…” he grasped her arm firmly and directed it to the trigger while holding it still. One arm hovered behind the girl to keep the recoil from throwing her to the ground. Her trembles seemed to disappear. “…alright, there. Focus on your target, kid. Ignore the sounds around you. Just concentrate on the target, erase everything around it. Stay still and…pull.”

            The loud bang resonated again—Nack looked up in shock and Stell frowned visibly as the carny went into another fit of laughter. The BB from the gun had embedded to the right of the target. That couldn’t be right. He had put Stella exactly in place, and if she had been looking through the sight of the rifle correctly…

            _…Wait._

Nack nudged the girl to the side a bit, peering through the sight of the gun. It was definitely set to a position that would’ve gotten her the shot she wanted, but…it hadn’t gotten anywhere near its target. The weasel gunslinger narrowed his eyes. The hell did this carny bastard think he was trying to pull with them? The devious prick—or someone, at least—had tampered with the sight on the rifle. He supposed he couldn’t complain, since in the dog’s position he would’ve done the exact same thing, but Nack wasn’t exactly fond of being on the losing side of a scam.

            He was a professional with firearms. If this stupid carny scam artist thought he could trick him, OR his client, at his own game then he was in for a big disappointment.

            “Alright, Shiela, ya did good. Nah, really, ya did.” Nack reassured the little girl as her face fell. “But this game has a trick, y’see? Ya gotta set your sights a little further to the RIGHT of where ya wanna hit, get it? C’mere.”

            “It’s Stella…” The girl muttered, disappointment clear in her tone. However, she did as she was told, hefting the large airsoft gun up in her hands to hold against the side of her shoulder. It didn’t lift far, being connected to the table, but it was enough for a small child to carry it. Nack knelt down, rearranging her posture a bit, then stepped back. Stella peered through the sight and then hesitantly shifted her aim slightly to the right. With that, she slowly pressed down on the trigger and a bang rang out. Without the support arm behind her, the recoil threw the girl back onto her behind.

            But it was with a gleaming smile on her face.

            The canine carny looked at the dartboard in shock—embedded right in the center was a small BB, colored to match Stella’s gun. He looked over to the weasel and the fox incredulously as she took the massive blue plush off its hook and stuck out her tongue at the dog. Nack snickered and ruffled the kid’s hair as they left the confused shopkeeper in the dust behind them.

            “Ya did pretty good. How’d feel about firin’ a gun for the first time?” Nack paused. “Y’know. Even if it was a rigged shot.”

            “It was pretty scary! They’re really loud. But...but it was pretty fun too, I guess. And I won!” Stella laughed and hugged her plush closer to her. Nack briefly was overcome with the thought that maybe it was okay to take a break, just this once. Or even once in a while.

            Of course, he wasn’t aware that there was a dark brown wolverine slinking around the booths and watching them with sharp and angry eyes, either.


	7. Chaos on the Midway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some mild BarkBean implications in this chapter. Beware, I guess. /shrug

Chapter Seven

Chaos on the Midway

 

 

            “You win all of those by yourself?” Nack commented with a grin. Stella peaked out from behind her large blue plush and giggled. It was hard to not laugh at the approaching bear and bird, loaded down under the weight of a plethora of carnival prizes. Bean himself was carrying an awkwardly large rabbit plush, its arm slung around his shoulder to rest on his back like a bag. It didn’t seem to kill his enthusiasm much—a stupid grin was pasted across the bird’s beak.

            “Nah, Bark did.” Bean explained. The bear nodded. “Strongman game.”

            “Cripes. Ya leave them anything at all? Ya sure didn’t leave them any dignity.” Nack commented. Bean shrugged, loading the stuffed rabbit down onto Bark. The bear rolled his eyes but patiently hefted the toy up with the rest of his carnival junk. Stella padded up to him and held out her large Sonic plush insistently.

            “Where’d you get the knockoff Speedy Cheese?” Bean questioned, sliding up aside the girl and her doll to poke at it curiously. She immediately pulled it away from him with a frown. “Aw, c’mon, share!”

            Nack left the bird to have his argument with the seven year old. He sidled up next to the polar bear with an exhausted sigh, leaning up against the railing that lined the glass windows. Bark gave him a questioning look, gesturing the best he could at Stella and her newfound doll. The weasel shrugged noncommittally and Bark shook his head, gesturing more urgently at them. Nack groaned and pulled his hat over his eyes.

            “She won it herself, unlike your little boyfriend.” Nack snapped irritably; Bark wrinkled his nose but looked away. The weasel sighed—that had come out harsher than he meant it to. He supposed hitting raw nerves had always been his specialty. “Airsoft shooting game.”

            Bark gave him an incredulous look and the purple mercenary scowled. The weight of his pistol felt so much heavier under the weight of such a judging expression—not that Nack could really blame the polar bear. The little girl clearly displayed no proficiency with firearms so anyone with half a brain could have figured out that the weasel had helped her. And he wasn’t exactly known for being generous or helpful, especially towards children.

            The two watched silently as the bird and the fox ran up and down the runway. Bean had all the enthusiasm of a child, Nack realized, despite not being too trustworthy when it came to taking care of them. Everything that the bird lacked, though, his quieter associate was more adept with. _Softer_ methods, more controlled method, for when a child was crying or being troublesome. For such a large, intimidating type, he was definitely better for dealing with the rougher times with someone Stella’s age.

            Nack wondered where that left him.

            He shook the thought off fiercely. He didn’t NEED to be anywhere in this cluster. Stella Frost was a client, not a little baby that had been thrown on their laps to take care of. She was PAYING them and he sure as hell wasn’t keeping the kid around for the fun of it. Sure, it had been fun to play around at the shooting game with the fox child, and her willingness to partake in less legal avenues was both charming and amusing to the weasel, but…

            No. That wasn’t a road he was going to go down. Children were TROUBLESOME, not worth caring for.

            An ugly look had unknowingly pasted itself onto his face as he shook his head free of such thoughts. Bark watched him cautiously—every one of the Hooligans knew that look, and they all knew it never led to anything good. Nack had always been the temperamental type and when it burst out, it usually ended in disaster of some sort. The unease in the pit of the bear’s stomach was verified when the weasel stomped away from him, towards the duo running cheerfully up and down the glass hallways.

            “BEAN! Y’idiot! Stop acting like a little kid! You’re a damn professional, though it sure the hell is hard to tell sometimes.” Nack snapped, shoving the bird to the side. Bean blinked at him with clear confusion reflected on his face. Stella tittered lightly as she clutched her blue plush against herself in some sort of victory pose—a poor decision. It attracted the weasel’s attention to her. “And you…what’s your PROBLEM, kid? You hire us to do some all important task, to find yer parents, but I guess it ain’t all important enough to NOT waste time in an amusement park?! What’s your game, kid, to just waste my time?!”

            “W-wha…” Stella trembled, taking a small step away from the mercenary. Tears were gathering in the corner of her eyes—Nack rolled his own. “I…I just wanted to…I-I mean, well…”

            “Spit it out, kid, we ain’t got all day. Or hell, maybe we do? Based on your approach, there ain’t seeming to be any urgency in your case.” Nack sneered. “I don’t even know why I accepted this bullshit case to find a bunch of dead people.”

            That did it. The dam burst, tears streaming from the fox girl’s eyes as she choked out muffled sobs against the blue plush in her arms. Her whole body shook as her muzzle dampened—dark wet stains piled up against the Sonic doll she held. Powder pink boots took shaky steps away from the Hooligans, finally turning tail to run deep into the park. Deep, heaving sobs could be briefly heard, until she disappeared completely into the crowd that was staring at them incredulously.

            “Nice, Nack.” Bean commented. “Real nice.”

            The weasel grunted, ignoring the bird while trying to ignore the knot of guilt tying up in his stomach.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

            Stella sat with red eyes below the roller coaster, clutching her huge doll to her chest as the cars whizzed by above her head. Passing parkgoers sent curious looks to the fox but she didn’t return the favor—her eyes were glued firmly on the concrete ground. She didn’t blame them for staring, though. The girl figured that she had to be quite the sight with her reddened eyes, wet muzzle, missing boot that she had lost while running, and loose ponytail barely containing her mass of black hair.

            She held up the blue plush, shaking it back and forth—a shaky smile attempted to cross her face, but quickly fell off at the thought of the bounty hunters she had ran away from. The doll in her hand…it was theirs, not hers, not really. With a pout she tossed it to the side, only to crawl back to it with a hug a few minutes later. It felt like the girl’s only comfort at the moment.

            Stella sniffed pathetically. The weasel’s words HAD been harsh, but the reason they had stung so much was because she knew he was almost entirely right. They WERE wasting time at Twinkle Park, and…it was more than likely that she was chasing her own tail by trying to find her parents. The bodies hadn’t been found, it was true, but the Aurora Ice Field was a nightmare in the winter. For the bodies to be buried under ten pounds of snow was a definite possibility.

            Yet here she was, far from the warmth of her home and the arms of her aunt, trying to chase after what was nothing more than a fleeting chance. A chance that was easily less that ten percent. Tears blossomed in her eyes again, running down her muzzle to drip onto the Sonic doll in her arms. The fox just wanted to believe, but she really had to wonder sometimes if she was just being a fool purposely ignorant to the obvious truth right in front of her.

            She buried her face in the doll’s chest.

            “Ah, little girl. Why are you crying so, yes?” Stella started as a shadow fell over her; she looked up into the dark red eyes of the female wolverine. There was a bright smile pasted on her face, her lips twitching uncomfortably at the corners to reveal rows of glistening fangs. In fact, ‘uncomfortable’ pretty much was enough to describe the woman now crouching in front of her—Stella felt nothing but bad vibes from her. She didn’t seem to be going away, though.

            “Ah…u-um…I’m, uh, lost.” Stella lied. Or perhaps it was a half-truth. The fox wasn’t really sure anymore. The answer seemed to amuse the wolverine, though, as she put her fangs on display with a full grin. Stella flinched at the sharpened points.

            “That is a very large pity, yes? Maybe Svetlana can show you to place where you are needed to be.” A hand was held out to the girl; Stella simply stared at it blankly. Her eyes travelled up the arm to the woman’s face as she studied her with fascinated eyes. Svetlana grit her teeth in annoyance but somehow managed to keep a smile on her face. “What is it that you are looking at, my child? Svetlana is just here to being help you. You should being come with me.”

            “You’re Svetlana? S-Svetlana Vasin?” Stella asked nervously. The grin dropped off the wolverine’s face quickly, replaced with a disgusted frown.

            “You are having hearing of me?”

            “U-uh, well, that is to say…” Stella’s eyes darted to the side, scoping out the crowd on the left. It seemed heavy enough to lose a person in, but light enough for a child of her size to slip through. Her eyes quickly focused back on Svetlana, letting out a nervous chuckle as she stumbled to her feet. “I, uh, I may have heard of you from, uh…some associates of mine?”

            “…I am suppose that means I can be skip the formalities, then.” Svetlana chuckled darkly, sliding right in the path of Stella’s escape route. From her left hip she drew a gleaming white gun, tucked under the folds of her jacket to avoid attention. The fox paled visibly at the slight, stepping away only to hit her back against one of the large panes of glass covering he park.

            “Y-you…you want money, right?” Stella stammered. Svetlana laughed.

            “You must be being familiar with way of mercenary, little girl.” Stella scowled at her words; her grimace disappeared as she was pulled towards the wolverine and against the butt of the white gun. “I am want money, yes. It is what all mercenary is want. But I am not need your paltry earnings.”

            “I-if you don’t shoot me…”

            “You will what?” Svetlana whispered. “Offer me the diamond in your coat? It will be go back to where it belongs soon anyways. I will be getting my fair share soon enough, though lord is to know that I am not get paid enough for this nightmare of a job. It have perk, though.”

            “Perk? W-what perk?” Stella gulped.

            Svetlana laughed.

            “There is no pay better than to see the blood of Nack the Weasel spilled all over the midway, my dear.” She whispered into the fox’s ear. “Trust me when I am saying this: I would give up even the fifty of millions in your coat just for the opportunity to be seeing that. And I am about to be getting that best pay, all thanks to the darling that once was mine.”

            Stella shivered, hugging the plush against herself. Fear, and to her surprise, concern ran through her small form as she looked back across the midway with forlorn eyes—those guys, those jerks, they were about to be in a lot of trouble. And even though Nack had been a massive jerk to her…the little girl couldn’t help but feel worried about ALL of the Hooligans.

            She dipped her head as she followed, obedient but unwilling, after the wolverine woman. They would need a miracle at this point.


	8. Thicker than Glass

Chapter Eight

Thicker than Glass

 

 

            “Any luck down by the coaster?” Nack called out across the glass walkway; the yellow bear shook his head. Nack groaned, rubbing his temples in irritation. They had broken up to search the entirety of Twinkle Park and yet hadn’t had a speck of luck in finding Stella. He supposed it was a given—how was one expected to find a single child in a massive amusement park? It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. And just like that needle, Nack had a distinctly bad feeling that this was going to come back to stab him in the ass.

            Bean emerged from behind the carnival games to rush up to them, crawling expertly up Bark’s back to rest on his shoulder. Nack shot him a look and the bird just shrugged—he hadn’t been able to find the girl either. Though admittedly the weasel often doubted Bean’s ability to pay attention long enough to find anything, much less a whole individual. Hell, he wasn’t even paying attention to Nack anymore—he was pawing through the bag of stuffed animals that Bark had slung over his back.

Nack groaned and leaned against the window of the glass walkway to look at the city beyond—he hated to humor the idea, but it had to be considered that Stella might have left the park without them. And if that were the case then they’d never find her. Station Square was simply too big for that. Twinkle Park was already enough of a challenge, but the whole city? At this point it would be more realistic to hope SHE came back to THEM.

            He grit his teeth. Fat chance, after what he had said to the kid…

            Regret was not his thing. He simply didn’t utilize it. Feeling bad was for little girls and ninnies, and mercenaries who were destined to fail at their job. Simply put, a man couldn’t do that kind of job while feeling regret. It involved too much harm pushed onto people who weren’t always deserving of it. A mercenary had to have an iron will that shut out all regret, or at the very least a nasty attitude that put themselves before the needs of others. Nack generally prided himself on having an unpleasant yet productive combination of both—a combination that didn’t allow him to feel bad just because some little brat had burst into tears.

            Yet here he was, feeling bad about it.

            It was definitely an alien feeling and Nack didn’t like it in the slightest. A nasty tightening in the stomach, almost like he was sick, tugged at his insides and questions he didn’t want to answer bombarded his mind. He didn’t even LIKE kids, for god’s sake. They were irritating little attention hogs who could never take care of themselves. Always needed someone to hold their hand to do anything, needed to be told everything, and couldn’t defend themselves worth a damn. Kids were worthless as far as he was concerned.

            …But it had been fun. The kid was snappy and she knew how to drive a hard bargain. She was independent enough to run away for what she thought was the right thing to do—something both he and his sister had done as children. And even though he hated the fact that kids couldn’t do anything on their own, he had to admit that playing with the airsoft guns and catching the carnival scam had been…fun.

            He groaned.

_She whines like a child. She’s demanding and ignorant and gets scared by the littlest interactions with the real world. Sheltered, annoying little brats…is that something we really need? She probably doesn’t even understand the damn worth of what she’s paying us—kids don’t get currency. She’s probably lying to us. Just let it go, Nack…just let it go._

            “Goddammit.” He groaned. “Did you two check the game corner yet?”

            “Yeah, that was on m—“ Bean began, but was interrupted by the harsh sound of glass shattering everywhere—Nack flinched as a bullet whizzed past his head, smashing the window in front of him into nothing. The shards fell down below, a good hundred feet below the glass walkway that the Hooligans were standing in. Shrill screams rang out as the parkgoers began to panic and try to push their way off the walkway. Nack stood solid, staring at the open panel in front of him, trying to form coherent thoughts.

            That bullet hadn’t been meant to hit—it had been to get his attention.

            Hesitantly, he turned to face the shooter.

            Jeb towered over the remaining denizens on the glass walkway, firmly gripping a fifty caliber wheel pistol—a thick but pliable metal rod extending from under his dress shirt was attached to his hoof to wrap around the trigger and held the gun in place. His jacket was thrown to the side in favor of exposing his massive size to the world; not a sight that wouldn’t send chills through any mercenary that knew the warthog. Jeb used his weight well, as could it be a deadly weapon. Just as deadly as the polished tusks shining in the cheap lights of the midway.

            Nack took a hesitant step to the side, reaching for his own gun. Within seconds he was face to face with the massive barrel of Jeb’s gun. His hand drew away from his weapon, raising up beside his head with one finger casually pointing behind the massive pig. Jeb raised an eyebrow questioningly; it was not enough time to think about how to prevent the massive gloved fist from slamming into the side of his face. Jeb toppled to the side as his weasel target scurried to Bark’s side. A triumphant grin spread over his face as he pulled his gun out.

            “Can’t get the drop on me, Jeb! Thought you would’ve figured that out by now, but I guess not.” Nack sneered; Bark rolled his eyes. “The hell is this about? I thought we made a deal! That, y’know, didn’t involve killing me!”

            Jeb groaned loudly as he hefted himself to his feet, a smirk spreading across his face as he flicked out the other gun holder under his shirt sleeve. The gun at his side clicked into place with no trouble at all. “Well, I’ll say that we did done make that deal, boy. But I’m awfully sorry to tell you that you done got outbid.”

            One hoof gestured at the ceiling high above them—on one metal support beam sat Svetlana Vasin grinning maniacally down at them with her painted lips. Her free hand held her signature white gun up by her shoulder, with Stella wrapped in the other. The small fox kicked violently against the hold of the older woman uselessly, unable to yell with Svetlana’s hand planted firmly over her mouth. Nack swore under his breath, realizing his mistake in assuming that he had to FIND the wolverine. Of course Svetlana had been following them the whole time.

            But why take Stella…? Svetlana knew it wasn’t in Nack’s nature to care about anything, even if the care was minimal. Hostages weren’t her thing in situations involving him, because she knew well that he wasn’t particularly prone to making sacrifices for others. And she couldn’t possibly know what he was thinking—Svetlana Vasin may have been crafty but she was no mind reader.

            The weasel narrowed his eyes. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place. Whoever had hired Svetlana hadn’t stopped their attack at the Frost parents—they wanted something with the Frost child as well. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what that might be but at the moment, he didn’t really care. All he knew was that this situation had just become too dangerous for comfort and it needed to end.

            But how…?

            There were three of them, true, but that had only been an advantage when Nack thought his solitary opposition was going to be Svetlana. He wouldn’t even trust a group of ten to go up against Jeb safely, much less his efforts combined with the crafty wolverine woman. The boar had a reputation of being a murder machine, especially when he was angry…or when he had enough incentive.

            All three of the Hooligans were snapped out of their reverie by a loud shriek and a string of angry Russian. Stella had bitten down hard on the wolverine’s hand, arm shooting out to elbow the woman in the stomach. Svetlana reached back to grab the child, but it was too late. Stella was already sliding down the side of the metal support to hang high above the battle. Nack could see her limbs shaking, and the fear in her eyes—but there was certain amount of determination in those eyes as well.

            “N-Nack!” She shouted. “T…the glass! Look at the GLASS!”

            He exchanged confused looks with Bark; what the hell did the kid mean? Bean poked his head over the polar bear’s shoulder, amusement gleaming in his eyes as he stared down at Jeb’s feet—they followed the bird’s crazed gaze.

            Then their eyes widened.

            Tiny cracks were spidering out from under the hoof of the massive boar, the glass underneath struggling to keep the massive beast afloat. The thick and clear material had been specifically for walking upon by all folks despite their shape, size, and species…but Jeb was far too massive. The glass couldn’t take the stress for much longer and the slightest push would be over the edge. Nack glanced at the cuts weaving up and down the hallway…it was risky, but it was pretty much the only thing they could do. It was either that or get gutted by Jeb.

            The choice between possibly dying and definitely dying was a considerably easy one.

            “Bean, throw a bomb at his feet and blow out the glass pane. We’re going to run for THAT EXIT THERE, do NOT go anywhere else, it HAS to be that one!” Nack hissed under his breath as he pointed at the closed door behind them. Bark gestured at the girl hanging on the support beam above them—Nack shook his head. “She’s coming too. STELLA!”

            “W-WHAT?”

            “JUMP WHEN I SAY!”

            “ _WHAT?!_ ”

            “Go!” Nack pushed the bear towards the door; Bean snapped his fingers and launched an explosive at the feet of the pig. It rolled innocently in front of his hoofs; looking down at the cracks running away from his feet, Jeb paled visibly and moved forward to follow after them. It was no use—Bean was throwing bombs at every pane up to the door.

            “Bark! Get Bean on your shoulder, and hold out your arms! Do NOT miss, we need that fifty million and we ain’t gettin’ any of it if she drops down and dies!” Nack ordered; the bear nodded and held up his arms as he ran in front of the weasel. The purple mercenary pointed up at the girl and she shook her head wildly. “STELLA! If you jump, you will NOT die! If you DON’T, you will die without a goddamn doubt! So just JUMP already!”

            Tears gathered in her icy blue eyes as she glanced back to the rage-filled eyes of the wolverine crawling down the beam. With a fearful nod she released her grip on the metal beam, falling away from the sounds of loud cursing in a thick Russian accent. The girl covered her mouth—even in this time of terror, the infantile fear of not seeming brave enough tugged at her. Or maybe it was just a strange urge to impress the odd mercenaries she hired. The girl wasn’t sure anymore.

            Right now, as she landed in the thick and furry arms of the polar bear, she didn’t really care. Bark tucked the girl against his chest as he smashed through the wooden door blocking the walkway from the rest of Twinkle Park. A riot of explosions sounded loudly behind them, accompanied by an offsetting chorus of maniacal laughter from the green bird watching the chaos from his shoulder. Nack trailed behind them all to send a few bullets into the fray, just to be sure.

            The group collapsed against the ground of the midway, ignoring the screams and stares of the other patrons. Stella rolled off the polar bear to pant loudly; never before had the sheltered child felt such fear and such…exhilaration. A wild grin passed across the child’s face—they had just gone against the chance of death and they had WON. They had won against death with their own firepower, strength, and cold hard wiles. Her fists balled up, still shaking slightly, as she jumped to her feet.

            “You DID it! You absolutely freakin’ DID IT! Oh my GOSH, I thought she was gonna get me, and I thought that big guy was gonna gut you guys, but they DIDN’T!” She squealed. Nack pushed his hat over his face with a groan, failing to conceal the small grin pinching at his lips. “Bark got him right in the side of the face like BAM! And Bean got every dang pane, he wasn’t catchin’ up to you, that’s for sure! And ya…you got what I was sayin’ about the glass…and you…told Bark to catch me…even after what you said earlier…?”

            “Guess I did.” Nack muttered, still laying on his back. Bark pushed him upwards and pulled his hat away from his face. The weasel scowled and batted the bear’s hands away from him—Bark simply shrugged and returned to tending the excitement of the green bird aside him. The fox girl giggled softly as she watched the bird bounding around the midway with fearful eyes from the crowd on his back, and Bark half-heartedly chasing him past the carnival stands. Then she turned to Nack.

            “You’re a hard guy to get, you know.”

            “I hate kids.”

            “Yeah, I know.” Stella said, sitting down next to the weasel. “But whatever. Y’know, I really hate mint. But y’know what I like? Mint chocolate chip cookies. That’s weird, right? Auntie Nessie always said it was super weird. But when the chocolate cookies pair up with the mint bits, it makes the mint seem really good somehow. I think so anyways. Do you think if an annoying kid pairs up with the Hooligans, that the kid won’t be so annoying? That the kid might actually be good?”

            “…Kid.” Nack chuckled as he stood to his feet, helping the little girl to her feet and shoving his gun back into its hostler. “There ain’t nothin’ good about the Hooligans.”

            Stella just laughed.

           

 


	9. Rubble Rabble

 

Chapter Nine

Rubble Rabble

 

 

            Nack placed one hand against the fox child’s torso, keeping her curious eyes from peaking past their hiding place behind the rubble that had accumulated. His shotgun was in his hand, finger cautiously gripping at the trigger as they watched the passing park goers. Behind them sat Bark and Bean, the latter surprisingly quiet for once as they all patiently waited for the chaos to die down. Now definitely wasn’t the time to hightail it—there were too many officers milling the area and Nack would bet dollar to dime that the face of every Hooligan was in their databases. Being seen wasn’t an option.

            Besides, he knew that the cops weren’t the only threat here.

            Jeb the Tusk was a durable bastard. Everyone who met him had either figured it out right off the bat, or learned it the hard way. Not much could take him down. While a massive explosion followed by piles of pile of metal and glass was a good start, Nack couldn’t help but feel his doubts. The only reason he had gotten away from Jeb way back when was because he had a head start. Right now, though…

            He groaned and collapsed against the hard damaged metal shielding them from sight. Several of the support beams had come crashing down thanks to Bean’s explosives and two of them had cluttered by a rather large rock below, forming something of a sanctuary for the Hooligans to huddle under. Even Bark’s mass could fit in the small space. The weasel could only hope it would provide them shelter until the police forces left the scene.

            Just in time for the wolverine to come sniffing for them, he supposed. While he couldn’t be assured that Jeb was dead (he wasn’t either way), the sight of a screeching wolverine on a stretcher being pushed into an ambulance let the weasel KNOW that he still would have to contend with Svetlana Vasin related troubles. Not for a long time, though—her arm was visibly broken and blood seemed to cover her entire muzzle. Several shards of glass seemed to be embedded in her leg.

It was a sheer miracle that the wolverine could talk at all with the red she was coughing up with her words. Nack had to be impressed, at least. Any other mercenary would’ve been killed by that kind of blow. But here was Svetlana, alive and swearing violently at paramedics—even taking an occasional swat at them for the apparent crime of trying to help her wounds. Crazy killer survived, plenty of good people hurt in the process. What a world.

Nack bit down on an unlit cigar; he supposed he had no room to talk. There was very little difference between Svetlana and himself. Far as he could tell, the only real difference at the moment was that he had won and she had lost. They were both cutthroat, manipulative, greedy jerks who took a sort of sadistic pleasure in how their work screwed over others. His sharp teeth ground down harder against the wrapped nicotine. Something about that didn’t sit well with him—not the cutthroat part, not the manipulative part, not even the greedy part. Just somehow sharing so much in common with Svetlana felt point blank insulting.

            A small hand placed on his arm; the mercenary turned to look at the distressed eyes of the little girl in his care. Hesitantly her fingers pulled him away from the fiasco outside. His eyes darted up to the bear and duck crammed in the far corner of the metal rods—Bean was smiling wildly as usual, but Bark looked uncomfortable being jammed in such a small space. Nack groaned and scooted away from the entryway to sit aside the rest of the Hooligans. The sirens were already dying down, but it didn’t hurt to be safe. There probably wouldn’t be a chance to make a run for another few hours.

            “…What now?” Bean voiced all of their concerns, albeit in a cheerful chirpy tone. Nack groaned and bit harder down on his cigar, finally cutting through the nicotine stick with his large fang. Pulling it out of his mouth, he glanced over it, then shrugged and threw it to the side. All eyes were still on him. Why these idiots looked to him for guidance in situations like this, he wasn’t sure.

            “What now, indeed.” He mused, resting his cheek in his hand. Fingers drummed idly against the white muzzle, currently stained with gunpowder and blood. A quick glance showed him that the rest of them were in no better shape—Bean’s feathers were stained a burnt black color on the tips with his ascot almost burnt off, Bark fur was smattered with chunks of wood and blood from security guards, and Stella’s pristine pink peacoat was hanging from her arm to reveal a singed and filthy purple dress. Hair normally tied precisely behind her head now fell around her head in disarray, and the child seemed to have a black eye.

Nack sighed and gestured to Bark—the polar bear reached forward and grasped Stella around the waist, dragging her over to sit on his lap as he looked over the bruise forming around the girl’s eye. She winced slightly as the large mercenary’s head prodded around her face to find the extent of the damage. Normally health wouldn’t be a concern, as the Hooligans were fairly durable, but it was different when faced with a seven year old girl. Especially one that was a lucrative client.

            They were durable. She wasn’t.

            Nack pulled off his hat and pulled out a small box, no larger than his palm. He quietly popped open the cap to reveal a collection of small bandages and gauze, carefully arranged to fit within the compartment, and gestured to the girl to hold out her arm. Biting back a moan of pain, Stella extended her arm to showcase the visible burn marks once covered by the pastel peacoat. The weasel clicked his tongue in reprimand and tore off a strip of gauze with his larger tooth.

            “What now. That’s an important question.” Nack mumbled as he wrapped the fox’s arm. Despite obviously biting back pain, Stella seemed very alert—icy blue eyes were focused intently on the weasel. They all knew what this really meant. With Jeb missing and Svetlana out of reach, they had officially hit a dead end. Though even if Jeb was alive, he probably wouldn’t be planning to help them.

            Nack grimaced; he should have KNOWN that stupid pig was going to screw them over. He felt like a complete idiot; how could he have NOT guessed that she would recruit him? It was all that Jeb ever did. Once Svetlana entered the picture, the beast of a man was like putty in her hands. And considering how much Svetlana hated Nack, it should have been a given to him that the Hooligans would end up tangling with the wolverine’s ex-husband.

            “Boy, look at him beat himself up.” Bean commented. Nack looked up to the bird incredulously, hands stilling around the gauze wrapped burn. “And about just about nothin’, to top it off. You really need to take some chill pills, Tooth.”

            “The hell do you mean, NOTHING?” Nack hissed, trying to keep his voice down. He was going to try and elude the police even if Bean wasn’t planning on contributing. “We got cornered in an AMUSEMENT PARK, of all places, and had to blow the entire walkway out in order to not die! Oh, but why? Because we’re being followed by two of the most bloodthirsty, vengeful mercenaries who sure as hell ain’t gonna go down with something that simple! That ain’t enough? One of those assholes is the only one who can get us the information we need, and now she’s in the hospital!”

            “Isn’t that a good thing?” Stella interjected. Nack stared at her blankly and the girl shrugged, tugging the gauze from his hand to finish wrapping around her arm. “Well, isn’t it? If she’s hurt, then Svetlana can’t come after us. And even if she DOES see us, she can’t do anything. I saw. Her shooting arm is broken.”

            “…You sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’, tinkertoys?” Nack questioned. Stella just peered to the side innocently.

            “Well, I mean, it would just be impolite to not visit such a dedicated friend in the hospital…” The fox shrugged. “…and maybe we could do well to ask her a question or two about my parents. That’s all.”

            “…You’re a wicked, wicked child, you know that?” Nack chuckled, stuffing the gauze and band aids back into the box from his hat. Slapping it back on his head, he arranged it with careful precision and peaked back out past the fallen metal beams—the fray was beginning to die down, although there were several cops still milling around. Nack gestured Bean and Bark forward; they shuffled forward awkwardly to stand in the shadow of the fallen beam.

            “What’s up, Tooth?” Bean chirped. Nack rolled his eyes; the duck always seemed to need a word in between. It wasn’t worth complaining about it anymore.

            “You and Bark are going to go out ahead of us. Your role is injured park patrons. Say you were here on a date or something, I don’t care. I’m sure you’ll pass for it.” Nack snorted as Bark scowled at him. Bean just let out a tittering laugh under his breath, clutching tightly to Bark’s arm. “Stella and I will follow after you. Stella, you’re my kid, or niece, or something. I don’t care what the hell it is. Just pick something.”

            “I’d go with niece. I don’t think anyone would believe that kid is yours.” Bean quipped; Nack smacked the bird across the head. “Hell, maybe you should try for step-niece, or niece twice removed, or something.”

            “Bean, I swear to god…”

            “Maybe even like, adopted daughter. Because geez, she’s a fox and you’re a weasel, and look at her! She’s like a button, she’s so cute! And you’re like…ooh, did I go too far?” Bean prattled on; Bark had already grabbed the bird and thrown him over his shoulder to slide out from their hiding spot. The pair strode into the crowd of remaining panicked pedestrians, disappearing into the distance quickly. Nack simply watched after them, exasperation and exhaustion painted visibly on his face.

            There was a tug on his glove; he looked down to see Stella wrapping both hands around his with uncertainty in her eyes and a shaky smile on her face. With a deep sigh he returned the loose smile and pushed forward out of their shelter. The fox girl followed after him, hand clutched firmly in the older mercenary’s. They pushed through the remaining crowds with Nack’s eyes firmly planted on every police official crossing their path.

            “Stella. Don’t cling so hard.” Nack snapped. “You’re stepping on my feet.”

            “A-ah, sorry, I just don’t want to get lost…”

            “You ain’t gettin’ lost.” He muttered; Stella pushed closer to the purple weasel and almost tripped over his boots.

Nack groaned in irritation and then fell down to a crouching position. Arms extended backwards, beckoning at the girl behind him. Hesitantly she climbed into the open arms and was promptly hefted onto his back with a muted yelp from the fox. Spindly legs extended from under Nack’s arms, her peacoat balanced on his shoulder and her fluffy white tail covering up his forked purple one. Pink gloves grabbed at the cowboy hat on his head, pulling it back over her dark locks. Her typically springy ears drooped under the brim.

            “Won’t recognize you this way, right?” She muttered, adjusting her tail further to block off the unusual kink in the mercenary’s tail. He didn’t reply; he simply quietly made a beeline for the entrance of the park. His posture slackened the closer they got to the exit. Most of the officers were stationed by the walkway that they had so conveniently blown up—the further away Nack was from those bastards, the better. He didn’t need to be back in prison so soon.

            “Excuse me.”

            They both froze.

            An officer stood aside them, hand firmly planted on the gun in his holster and a devastating glare locked on the pair. He held out his free hand to them and cocked an eyebrow when the weasel and fox deliberately held their place with confusion written in their eyes. The tall man shook his head and moved forward, cupping Stella’s back to push her higher up on the mercenary’s back and guide them in a different direction.

            “I know its probably confusing with all this rubble, but you’re heading to the wrong exit. The north exit got blown out by a chain reaction. We’re evacuating out the west exit.” He explained somberly. Both Nack and Stella slackened considerably and the officer smiled at the little girl. “No need to worry, kiddo. We’re gonna figure out exactly what happened and ruined your day at the park.”

            “Yeah, I’ll just bet you will.” Nack muttered, hoisting the girl up so she could rest her burnt arm on his head. The officer watched in thinly veiled confusion as the two animals took off towards the other entrance, then shrugged, returning to the rest of civilians milling around in confusion.

            “That was close.” Stella commented.

            “Too close. We need out of here before one of these idiots actually recognizes me. Can only hope that dumb and dumber made it to the right exit… but knowing them they probably just blew a new exit in the wall.” Nack groaned. Stella giggled, lowering the hat on her head down to conceal her amusement. The look of laughter shifted to one of horror quickly, hands wrapping around Nack’s ears to pull the weasel back. “OW! What the hell, kid?!”

            “LOOK.” She hissed, pointing at the west exit ahead of them. Nack followed her finger and his eyes widened.

            Standing at the side of the west exit, covered in debris and blood with his leg propped up in a handmade splint, was Jeb the Tusk.

           

           

           


	10. Scamper to the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just want to express something real quick before anyone reads this chapter: there’s involvement with vehicles in this chapter, and I have to make it very clear that I have about as much understanding and experience with vehicles as I have with space travel. That is, none. I’m legally barred from driving ANY vehicle due to medical reasons so my understand of them is just about jackshit. So if anything about the vehicle operations seem a little off, or a little weird, then I truly am sorry. I just don’t know how to into vehicles of any kind.

 

Chapter Ten

Scamper to the Sky

 

 

            “Shit. Shit, shit, god DAMMIT.” Nack swore under his breath, fingers on Stella’s legs tightening in frustration. There was no avoiding this—the massive boar had already noticed them. He was already trudging towards them. The weasel knew that he hadn’t a chance against Jeb even with all three of the Hooligans at his side in perfect condition. Yet here he was, the massive ex-mercenary striding up to him, with no one with him except a little girl with second-degree burns all over her arms.

            “Nack…” She whispered; the weasel could feel the fear vibrating through her body as she shrunk against his back. As Jeb approached him he took a few steps back, eyes darting around; the police seemed to have formed a circle around the piggybacking pair and the approaching mercenary pig. The weasel deflated. Apparently Jeb was threatening even to trained lawmen...or they had finally recognized him and just didn’t want to help someone who had assisted in blowing up the park.

            Either way, it was trapping him between a rock and a hard place. And that rock was not looking too happy at the moment.

            His foot slid back and hit rubber; twist back to see past the child on his back, Nack realized they had run against a police car. Narrowing his eyes, the weasel smashed his elbow against the window and reached in to fiddle with the lock as he ignored the shouts from the surrounding officers. Swiftly he swung the door open and threw Stella into the driver’s seat. She let out a yelp of shock as Nack shoved his gun into her hands, dipping under her feat to root around under the wheel. With a satisfying click, a compartment popped open to reveal a collection of wires.

            “Lesson number two in shootin’ is gonna come early, kiddo, and its gonna be a real sonvabitch.” Nack turned to the girl above him, who was holding the gun like it was made of acid. “I’m gonna need you to cover me while I hotwire this thing. Shoot at Jeb, shoot at officers, I don’t care. Just keep everyone away from this car if you have any interest in living.”

            “O-okay.” Stella said. The fox was shaking visibly as she aimed the gun through the shattered glass of the window. The encroaching boar’s grin was visible; perhaps laughing at the girl’s attempt at defense, or perhaps simply laughing at them as a whole. Several officers seemed to be gathering behind him, with one of them calling for backup. She paled. If more cops showed up, they didn’t have a chance.

            Holding the gun steady like Nack had shown her at the shooting game, she carefully and precisely centered in on her target. There was no scope this time, not like the game had; the only thing she was going to be able to trust was going to be her very own intuition. The barrel of the gun shifted around uncertainly, unsure whether or not to focus in on the mercenary pig trampling towards them or the cops at his side. Finally, she bit her lip and focused in on a target.

            Small fingers pulled down on the trigger.

            With a surprised shriek the fox fell back against the passenger door. The bullet whizzed out from the broken glass of the cop car, making precise collision against the splint that was supporting the massive boar that had been coming at them. Jeb’s eyes widened as his weight collapsed under the lack of support, falling backwards with his arms held out. Several officers were caught under his girth as he went down to slam against the concrete. They moaned loudly in defeat as Jeb tried furiously to rise to his feet—it wasn’t happening, not without the support he had previously given himself.

            A spark emitted from the wires in Nack’s hands and the engine roared to life. The weasel cackled victoriously, hopping back into the leather car seat to pull it into gear. The car drug against the pavement as he rammed down on the gas, spinning the wheel to face them towards west entrance. The car jetsoned forward with several officers chasing hopelessly after it and screaming into their walky-talkies.

Not that it would do them any good anymore. The hijacked police car crashed through the glass door of the west entrance, sending shimmering shards everywhere as pedestrians fled from the fiasco. The vehicle flew off the stairs to land at street level with an ear-piecing screech from the tires. Nack cringed as the car hit the side of a brick building; a shiver went down Stella’s spine and she quickly buckled up. She barely had time as the car sped away from the destroyed amusement park. Several officers had already clambered into their vehicles to give chase.

            “That was a good shot, kid. You’ve got a healthy strain of good luck. Or dumb luck. Knowing that you’re hangin’ around the Hooligans, it was probably the latter.” Nack finally remarked; he felt like he was using a breath that he had been holding in for a month. Stella nodded nervously with the gun clutched against her chest. The weasel carefully reached out and dislodged it from her tight grip, pocketing it back into its holster. “And dumb luck don’t last you. Jeb ain’t gonna be down long, he’s just gonna get a new splint and come after us. And this car ain’t fast or durable enough to keep us out of his grip. Maybe the grip of those cops back there, but not out of Jeb’s nasty hooves.”

            “So what do we do?” Stella panicked. Nack shot the fox a grin and a wink, snapping his fingers ahead of them on the road. Ahead of their car was a trail of smoke emitting from a plasma engine. Precariously sitting atop the very back of the engine, waving like a child, was Bean. He flopped back and forth at the unsteady driving of the Marvelous Queen, provided by Bark.

            Nack slammed down on the brakes, the police car screeching to a halt in the middle of the road. The back slammed violently against the bottom of a street lamp, the light fizzling out as it slammed down to block the entire street. Arms quickly wrapped around the small white fox to toss her out the car door, the purple weasel quickly following after her to boot Bark out of the driver’s seat. With a quick flick of the finger from Nack, two sidecars popped out of the side compartments of the airbike. The team quickly scrambled in as the bike revved for takeoff; there wasn’t any time to spare and anyone who got left behind wasn’t going to have anyone coming back for them.

            “Jeb may be fast, kid, but he can’t fly. When pigs fly, innit that the expression?” Nack snickered as he set the auto-clutch in motion to begin building up for the fastest takeover possible. It just had to build up for a minute or so, and he trusted the durability of his bike to stand up against the pathetic bullets that Station Square supplied its police force with. They’d be lucky if they even grazed through the heavy coat of paint on the durable machine.

Bean cackled loudly as he hung off the side of his compartment, waving to the officers below as the Marvelous Queen rose into the air. Stella was at his feet, hidden underneath the metal coverings and looking at the duck like he was out of his mind. Bullets whizzed by his head carelessly until Nack reached out and grabbed the back of his ascot, pulling him back down into the sidecar.

“Stay DOWN, you goddamn idiot! We ain’t safe yet!”

            “Looks like they nicked your bike’s finish, Nack.” was the bird’s only response. Nack growled; that finish had cost him a hefty sum, never mind that it just was against his rules to let his precious bike get hurt in any form. It would have to wait for later, though—the accelerator had built up enough to release the force saved up. He pushed down his hat as a strap folded over his middle; the others were quickly being tied down to the bike as well.

            With that, he pushed down on the gas pedal.

            The airbike rocketed upwards, high above the skyscrapers, with the sounds of the officer’s shouts lost behind them as the Marvelous Queen disappeared into the clouds above. The entire shuttle seemed to shake with the pressure of the speed and atmosphere. Stella had no idea how the bird aside her was still laughing riotously; she felt like her breath had been shoved into the back of her throat. But with a sudden, unexpected jerk, the airbike seemed to level out and the straps wrapped around them loosed and zipped back into the slots from whence they came. Slowly Stella rose to her feet, legs shaking as she balanced herself on the side of the compartment to look over the side.

            The wind blew her hair around and across her eyes; swiping her unburnt arm across her face, the fox looked down through the shield of clouds that drifted in between the gloriously tall skyscrapers below them. The ones that escaped the canopy of white fluff were shining brightly against the sun that had been hidden from the city at ground level. Ice blue eyes went wide as she stared down at the shining pillars rising through to their level. A large grin appeared on her face. Nack, however, was tapping the gas gauge on the airbike with a grimace on his face.

            “That crap always takes too much gas up. We’re gonna have to land outside of town and see if we can find a station to fuel up.” He muttered. Stella averted her eyes from the clouds and buildings below to look at him questioningly. “It’s a feature of the Marvelous Queen that’s meant to get you far away from any people you ain’t gettin’ on with. Quick speed, high velocity, shoots you out of enemy range quickly. Only problem is that it usually empties about half the tank.”  

            “So it’s a runaway move with a drawback.”

            “Don’t call it that.”

            “Runaway move?” She questioned. “But it is.”

            Nack groaned and threw his head back, resting back in the leather seat while lazily pushing down on the gas so the airbike would chug forward. “It’s not a runaway move, it’s a getaway move.”

            “Sounds like the same thing to me.” Stella shrugged, returning to her vantage at the rim of the sidecar. Bean peeked up beside her with a sneaky grin crossing over his beak, beckoning the little girl downwards. She leaned down, large ear gripped in the gloved wing of the green bird.

            “He likes ‘getaway move’ because it sounds cooler.” Bean snickered in her ear. She placed a hand over he muzzle, giggling slightly as Nack’s face flushed red; the fox couldn’t help but laugh at that kind of immaturity. Said laughter only increased when Nack jerked the Marvelous Queen backwards and forwards, causing the duck to fall forwards flat on his beak. Across from them, Bark sighed in annoyance and sunk into the small sidecar, ill suited for his size.

            “Yeah, well, call it what you like because it’ll only work for so long. We need to get some damn gas and hit the road.” Nack groaned, rubbing his temples. “Well…we need to get some damn gas and get to the Station Square hospital.”

            “Hospital? I appreciate the concern, Snaggletooth, but I’m feelin’ right as rain.” Bean quipped, instinctively ducking from the swipe that the weasel took at him. “But why the hospital? I guess Shiny Pink here could use a few more layers of gauze on that burn but I don’t think they’ll be too happy to see us there.”

            “Well, that probably couldn’t hurt…” Nack commented, glancing at the awkwardly bandaged burn on Stella’s now exposed arm—she was quick to push it behind her back, cheeks puffed up in determination. “…but if you’d bother to remember more than five minutes ago, then you’d know we have to visit Svetlana while she’s in the hospital. She might have some information on our case, and it might be easier to get her to talk now that’s she’s going to be bedridden.”

            “Five minutes ago was important, you know.” Bean remarked.

            “…Honestly, I don’t even know why I bother with you anymore.” Nack groaned. “Just…take the Extreme Gear out and check for a road that isn’t overpopulated with cops, okay? Can you do that?”

            “Righty-o, capitan o’ mine!” Bean cackled, climbing off the side of his compartment to scuttle around underneath it. One hand held him up from falling while the nimble fingers of the other opened a hatch under the sidecar. Fumbling around inside it, the bird let out a whoop as a long board drooped out. He released his grip on the car to fall down on the top of the Extreme Gear, plummeting downwards. Stella gasped and covered her eyes.

            “Don’t worry about him.” Nack remarked. Hesitantly she peaked through the crevices in her fingers just in time to see the bird shoot up through the overlay of clouds, cheering and crying as the flying board swiveled effortlessly through the sky. Stella pushed over the rim of the sidecar to watch in amazement, while Bark carefully surveyed the bird’s erratic actions—just in case. But Bean quickly disappeared out of both of their views when he plunged down into the clouds to do a check over the open and closed roads.

            “Do you think they’ll even be any open roads after what happened at Twinkle Park…?” Stella said, worry clear in her tone. “I mean, the police must be going nuts. I’m surprised we haven’t seen any copters yet.”

            “Yeah, that’s kinda why we need to get back to ground level soon.” Nack shrugged. “Among all the other reasons. And don’t worry about the roads, kid. The police may be going nuts over this but there’s never not a way out. ‘Specially since we’re gonna be laying low in order to talk to our dear hitwoman. By the time we’re done with that little dance, the cop craze will have died down a little bit.”

            “You think so…?”

            “Hey. I ain’t been in this business for half my life to ‘think’ so. I ‘know’ so and you better keep that the hell in mind.” Nack teased; Bark just rolled his eyes, well aware that the weasel should be thanking his lucky stars that SOMEONE would be willing to buy his lie of success in the business. It didn’t help that the pint-sized fox just shot the mercenary an inspecting look loaded with disbelief…but with a small smile encroaching her features.

            Before either of them could say anything, though, the communications radio on the Marvelous Queen’s dashboard crackled to life.

 _“And we are in LUCK! The highway exit by the hospital is open! D’ya think it’s about time we paid Lil’ Miss Bitey a visit? I’m sure she’s really missing us.”_ Bean’s voice broke through, laced with the crackling static of interference. Nack grinned, flipping the intercom out of its spot by the radio.

            “Oh yes. I think it is. In fact, why don’t you meet us there?”

            _“Can do, el capitan!”_

Nack laughed and clicked off the device in his hands, carelessly throwing it back at the dashboard and wrapping his hands around the wheel. There seemed to be a certain glint of self-satisfaction in his eyes, almost a look of victory. Both Bark and Stella scooted away from their driver—or, in Bark’s case, simply squirmed around in the ill-fitting sidecar.

            “It’s time to drop in on our old friend.”  


	11. Melting Ice

 

Chapter Eleven

Melting Ice

 

 

            The lights of the sterilized, white and blue hospital room were turned off; all that illuminated the unveiled bed was the moonlight from the window and the bright beeping lights of the medical equipment. By no means was that why Svetlana sat alert in her bed, though. Even stuffed into an uncomfortable bed, arm slung up by the side of the metal bars and gauze wrapped up and down her entire body, the wolverine was still a mercenary at heart. A hitwoman, an assassin, the kind of woman who never would truly rest.

            So even up in slings, even with burns marks peppering her dark brown fur, even with the pain trying to lull her into rest…Svetlana sat with wide red eyes. Her ears—possibly the one part of her that had escaped bandaging—twitched erratically. Every sound in the room out of the norm sent her senses alert. Anything that was not that continual beeping alongside her…anything that was not the sound of the drapes blowing back and forth in a careful pattern against the air conditioner.

            Her eyes narrowed even as her body sat immobile.

            She let out a groan of irritation.

            “I was knowing that you would be coming to get me. You are becoming like the Reaper to me, you are.” She commented dryly, seeming to speak to thin air. “Let us to not be playing of the games. We are all grown adults here…metaphorically, of course. I am knowing why you are coming, you are knowing why you are coming, so let us be forgetting the formalities…yes?”

            “…No one every said that you should be underestimated, Svetlana. Even with your bones shattered and your body covered in burns, you still have the nuts to call out your potential assailants.” A chuckle, tinged with a familiar Australian accent, rang out across the room. From behind the veil covering a nearby empty bed, the weasel emerged. Clinging to his arm was Svetlana’s target, overcome with a rather obvious case of the shakes. Svetlana watched them out of the corner of her eye, unable to move enough to face the intruder. So she simply let out a low and barking laugh.

            “So you are approach me when I am most vulnerable? You really always were of the coward type, Nack. Not that it should be of any news to me.” The wolverine snorted derisively and Stella twitched nervously. “To anyone in this room, in fact.”

            “It ain’t news to anyone under this damned sun, unless you’re a complete newborn. But you also know damned well that we ain’t here to discuss the pros and cons of my personality.” Nack leaned against the guardrails of Svetlana’s bed. The woman forced a smile, though her pointed teeth gritted viciously against each other. “I consider myself more of an opportunist than a coward, anyways.”

            “Is that being so? And what is being happened to your team? Your muscle, and your idiot?” Svetlana jeered; she had her pride, and she wouldn’t be limited just because she was tied down to a hospital bed. Just because she couldn’t kick didn’t mean she couldn’t _bite_. Nack seemed undeterred, though, just returning the wolverine’s smarmy grin twofold. At least, Svetlana figured, the little girl seemed to be fearful. She didn’t know what she would do once she couldn’t even scare children anymore.

            “Watching. And tipping the scales in our favor.” Nack replied briskly; Svetlana could not control the urge to raise her eyebrow. He dipped his head, body seeming to rumble with quiet laughter—both the fox and the wolverine watched with a twinge of fear in their eyes. “Listen, Svetlana, I know how stubborn you can be. If ANYONE should know, it’s me. You’ve tried to kill me for years and you ain’t EVER let up. So I decided there would need to be something to make you be helpful.”

            “Nothing you could do could ever convince me to help you out.”

            “Ah, well, see. Ya didn’t let me finish. I was answerin’ your question.” Nack shook his head dismissively. “I was tellin’ you what my ‘team’ was doin’. See, Bark is outside the door. I’m havin’ him guard to make sure we don’t gotta deal with some nosy nurses. Bean, though, he’s over in the pharmacy for this here hospital, planting somethin’ nice that we managed to pick up real quick on the black market.”

            “…Black…market?” Svetlana’s eyes widened, her forced grin turning into a fearful scowl.

            “Nack, I don’t think…” Stella began, but Nack held up a hand to silence her. The fox girl stepped back, but uncertainty seemed to be painted across her features.

            “I’ll be straight-forward with you, Svetlana. I don’t believe in dishonesty between associates.” Svetlana snorted loudly at Nack’s comment but went ignored. “So here’s how it is. Bean’s planting a lethal poison in one of your treatment IVs. Specifically, he’s planting a lethal poison in one of the IVs that they’ll be pluggin’ you into while you’re asleep. Now, there are quite a few set up for the next few days, so I can’t really say which it is…”

            “ENOUGH!” Svetlana roared. Nack leaned away from the railing as the little girl behind him scurried behind the empty bed. “Are you being happy now, weasel?! Does it making you feel so WONDERFUL that you are having cornered me?! Always did, yes? Of course it did! What else would you be wanting by coming here?!”

            “Calm down, you damn looney. I’m not here just to screw with your head. Could’ve done a million more interesting things if that were m’goal.” Nack chuckled. Svetlana growled menacingly in response. “Shuddap. I came here to give you a little questionnaire. And hey, if you give us the answers we need, I just might tell Bean to not dump that nasty poison in your IV.”

            Svetlana narrowed her eyes; the fingers of her unbroken arm drummed repeatedly on the side of the bed. She was a stubborn woman. Relenting was not in her nature. However, she had to wonder the obvious of whether her pride was worth more than her life. It wasn’t as if it was the first time she had been faced with this question—the life of a mercenary was always fraught with it. Slowly she closed her deep red eyes, tongue darting apprehensively over her red lips as she let out a long and almost amused sigh of defeat.

            “…You are winning this time, Nack. I will be telling you of what you are need to know.” She finally said. “…but only if you are being remember that no matter how many battles you are winning, I will eventually win the war.”

            “I’ll keep that in mind, sugarplum.”

            “Hmm…so.” Svetlana cast an inspecting glance out of the side of her eye, drifting over the white fox currently peeking out from behind the empty bed. Stella squeaked and disappeared back behind it. “…What is it that you are wanting to be knowing? I will share with you my knowledge.”

            “It’s a pretty simple question, sweetheart.” Nack slammed his foot against the metal siding surrounding the bed; the wolverine clearly was not impressed, even in her broken state. “We want to know who hired you.”

            “Who HIRED me?” Svetlana said in disbelief. “What are you even…”

            “As much as you trusted your oaf of an ex-husband to help you get us—way to go, by the way—he played the field before you hired him and gave us some documents about you.” Nack interrupted. “According to his agency, you were hired around the time when Stella Frost’s parents disappeared. The document says you went to meet the person hiring you, but the name wasn’t disclosed.”

            “So you are come to ME to figure it out? You are must been at the last end of your rope with clues, weasel.” Svetlana chortled. “And you are did it all for nothing. The first case I was hired in involving the Frost family did have ‘meet-up’, yes. But it was done in disguise, and was been done with a voice adapter. I am not knowing WHO it was who was hiring me to do away with the Frost mother and father.”

            “But you WERE hired to do away with them?” Nack pressured; Svetlana attempted to nod smugly. There wasn’t much action to be had despite her efforts. “And did you actually see them die?”

            “…No. That I did not. I told my contractor that I did, but I never did.” Svetlana admitted. Stella perked up considerably, sliding out from behind her hiding spot…but she did not move closer to the bedridden woman. The wolverine rolled her eyes. “I told the agency and contractors that yes! I have been finish the job! But reality is that while I was chasing them in the snowbed of Icefield, I did not catch them. They disappear into white snowstorm. I stayed watch for many day to see if they come back, but they did not to come back. Since no one can to be possibly survive that kind of weather, even if natural to it, I figure that they were dead. So I reported back as succeed even though not sure.”

            “Like a true crook, really.” Nack snorted.

            “Like you are to talk. Anyhow, I finish up first job and that was that. Not much is to tell aside from that the chance of living target is low. Very low.” Svetlana closed her eyes with a satisfied grin. “Even if it were not my bullet that hit them and done the job, I know that no one could possibly survive that long out in the ice. Is impossible. As far as I am concern, my job was complete.”

            “…What do you think, Stella?” Nack turned to the arctic fox standing by the window. Stella’s expression was blank, almost calculating…by the tight hands gripping at her purple dress gave away her unease. Even if tears were failing to gather at her eyes this once, it was clear that she didn’t like what she was hearing. Nack shook his head. “Now, kid, this was a long shot from the beginning…”

            “Wait.”

            “Huh?” Nack stared at the girl incredulously; her grip on her dress had softened and her eyes had lit up with what seemed to be a sudden realization. “What’s up, kid…? CAN they survive that long? I mean, I dunno arctic foxes are animals of the cold and all…”

            “Not that.” Stella said firmly, striding up to the wolverine mercenary laid down in the hospital bed. Svetlana mustered up the meanest glare she could manage while still so clearly injured, but this time the fox did not jump away from it. She simply stared down at Svetlana with narrowed eyes. “…What do you mean, FIRST job?”

            “Ah…” Was all Nack could manage; his memory probed back to the walkway at Twinkle Park where Svetlana had grabbed Stella was no clear motive. The little girl was right—there had been signs of the woman being on a mission at the amusement park. She would not have grabbed Stella if it hadn’t to do with her mission. And now, the wolverine’s own tongue had betrayed her…yet still Svetlana resumed that same smug, in control expression.

            “I was wonder if catching that would happen.” She said coolly. “Yes, I say FIRST job. I was hire again for another case involving the Frost family. The agency just had no records of it because it was a private arrangement. There were big emergency in the Frost Manor, you see, when little girl disappear. Entire family was going to the insane—she is main inheritor, they tell everyone! Little girl cannot go missing, they announce publically! They will give hefty sum to person who give them back the little girl! The idea amused Svetlana. You can get back little girl who uselessly search for parents that YOU got rid of, Svetlana. That is what I tell myself.”

            “So you made a deal with the Frost family to bring Stella back…?”

            “Oh yes. I make deal. They pay a high sum, they do. You may see that Frost family is very willing to pay big money for what they are want.” Svetlana chuckled. Stella’s ears dropped visibly. “They give me very big sum to bring little girl back. And when I see that job involves YOU, well…I figure it is twofer, as you say. I could be getting large payout AND killing old enemy.”

            “So my family hired you…to get me back to Frost Manor?” Stella said uncertainly, her hands covering her muzzle. Tears threatened to spill out of her blue eyes; Nack took off his hat, retrieving a loose strip of gauze from it to hand to the girl. One hand steadied her back as she shook. Svetlana raised a brow at this but said nothing. “They’ve…all this time, they’ve been trying to get me home? And I’ve…”

            “You have been being pain in ass.” Svetlana barked with laughter, throwing her head back against the pillow. “But yes, it were Frost family that are hiring me at the moment. Very proper lady I deal with who give me the job. Very proper, kind lady and her husband. I am not like either of them. The woman was too ‘prim’ and ‘proper’, always trying to get me to be using napkin and complaining that she is miss her poor little niece. Very much care in that woman. And her husband, ah, too quiet. He just there the whole time patting proper lady on back telling her it would be being okay.”

            “Aunt Vanessa and Uncle Erik…” Stella whispered.

            “Yes, that is the names. They are nice people, I am think. But not my type.” Svetlana paused briefly. “…the other one, though, the man. ‘Uncle Erik’. He seem to not be caring as much. But if I am understand right, he is not the blood relative, so maybe that is being called for. Still, they are both concern enough to be giving me a lot of money.”

            “Oh, oh no…all this time, and I’ve just been…Aunt Nessie…” Stella shook her head, falling to her knees. The weasel followed after her, hand at the girl’s back steadying her fall. There was nothing that could be done, though; her hands had already covered her eyes to block the torrent of tears streaming out. As the girl cried, Nack couldn’t help but inspect the large rolls of gauze wrapped around her arm—they had begun to wear, falling down to reveal the ugly burns that would most likely scar. It stung, somehow, to see a little girl like this. Nack couldn’t say it bothered him before to see little kids get hurt, but this felt different.

            Like it was one of his own.

            He dipped his cowboy hat over his eyes to think, securely keeping one arm against the little girl’s back as she fell against the weasel to sob loudly. What sense did it make to keep a child in the environment that he lived in? Sure, she was a strong child, and she was a smart child, and maybe she learned fast, but she was still a child. He remembered, distantly, when he had run away with his sister at a young age. They hadn’t been this young but it had still been trying on the both of them. Seeing the worst side of society did a number on children. And the worst of society tended to follow the Hooligans.

            He sighed audibly. Sometimes a brat, maybe immature, but Nack couldn’t bring himself to think that this kid deserved that treatment. He liked this kid. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he liked this kid. And while Nack didn’t know much about doing right, he figured it probably wasn’t right to let her continue in a journey that could only amount to misery. Moving the arm on her back downwards to pick Stella up with her head still buried in his shoulder, the mercenary turned to look at the bedridden wolverine. Svetlana had a look of disgust painted across her features.

            “…Thanks, Svetlana. Ya gave us a lot of important information, y’know?” He said. She said nothing, the disgust not leaving her face. “…And for the record, none of the IVs are poisoned. It was a bluff. Bean’s waiting outside with Bark in the Marvelous Queen.”

            “I should have goddamn known.” The wolverine muttered.

Nack rolled his eyes; always had to be right, this one. Carefully he sat the fox in his arms down and gestured her towards the window; Stella wiped her eyes and nodded, sliding the window open to step on the sill to drop off. A shrieking laughter could be heard below—Bean, situated in the sidecar of Nack’s bike with Bark at the wheel. Nack shook his head at the bird’s mindless enthusiasm and made to follow after the little girl. He was stopped by the sound of a hoarse chuckle.

            “Is that not cute? The meanest mercenary on Mobius cares about the feelings of a _little girl_.” Svetlana sneered. Nack turned slightly to look at the woman over his shoulder, tired glare on his face. “When did you get so mushy of the feely, Nack? When I met you, that little girl would have being shot just for talk to you. Now you are CARE for the feelings of a child? I was think that you kept a rule to…oh, what was it? Not get attached? You are look very attach right now, old enemy.”

            “I don’t care about the kid, Svetlana.” Nack lied; it was clear on his face and Svetlana could see it with ease. She simply let out another derisive laugh. “And even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. It’s going to end soon. I…I’m going to take her back to her Aunt and Uncle in Aurora Icefield.”

            “Oh are you now?” The wolverine mocked. Nack’s grip on the side of the window tightened. He could hear Bean calling up for him to jump, confusion laced in his voice, yet somehow the presence of the woman compelled him to stay. Either that or his own guilt at breaking his own rules. “So you’re giving up on little girl’s fancy pink diamond, are you? Taking the lesser reward all to make little girl be feel better? But you do not care, that is right. Not a single care.”

            “I don’t have time for your idiocy, Svetlana.”

            “No, you never did.” Svetlana chortled, closing her eyes with a large grin on her face. “But you should be knowing, Nack, that every attachment is a threat. Every time you become more attached to anything, you are risk yourself for their good. And with something as fragile as little girl, I would be very careful… _you_ can become as fragile as little girl if you attach too much to little girl.”

            Her words were met by empty air and fluttering curtains as the weasel disappeared on his getaway. Svetlana’s smile did not disappear; she simply stared up at the bland ceiling with amused red eyes.

            “You are to only bring suffer by having attachment, Nack. But I am think that maybe I would take great glee in that—after all, it was attachment that destroy me when I choose to went with you.” Svetlana grinned, her sharp rows of fangs gleaming in the moonlight. “Maybe attachment will destroy you, too. Would that be nothing if not very, very nice?”


	12. The Home That Built You

Chapter Twelve

The Home That Built You

 

 

            Snow flew out from behind the Marvelous Queen as it cut through the icefield, evaporating behind them in the heat of the engine. The silent group sped across the empty plains, with only the occasional pillar of ice to attract their attention—if they wanted it attracted. It seemed like no one in any of the sidecars wanted to talk right now, even Bean. Though that was more likely because the dynamo had bunked in Bark’s sidecar, and the polar bear had wisely tucked the bird in his scarf as to keep Bean from saying anything stupid. He seemed to be enjoying it, at the very least, as he burrowed in the large grin weave with an almost childlike glee on his face.

            Nack had to at least be thankful someone looked happy right now.

            Stella was hanging off the side of Bean’s usual sidecar, muzzle buried in her folded arms as she sat against the side of the seat. Ice blue eyes seemed to travel across the familiar landscape with sorrow clear in her expression. Her eyebrows were furrowed but anger didn’t seem present in her slumped form. The fox girl seemed more resigned than anything else—Nack supposed that failure could do that to anyone. He could think of a few times when he hadn’t exactly handled defeat in a mature way.

            He glanced over to Bark. Still quiet as always, the rabble-rouser tied in his scarf still loud enough to provide twice the amount of noise than Bark could have. The bear just met Nack’s gaze with stern eyes; it was amazing to the weasel how much that the larger Hooligan could communicate without speech. He didn’t like not completing a mission, Nack knew, but he knew even more that the idea of just ditching a child back where they began, with no real answer, sat even worse with the polar bear. Bark could be such a _moralistic_ bastard sometimes.

Nack dipped his head; he hadn’t spoken for a while now. He had just let the kid ferment in the sidecar. Interacting with the fox was something that was quickly not sitting well with him, especially with Svetlana’s taunts still biting him in the side, but he supposed he couldn’t really let this one slide. He wasn’t sure if either one of the other Hooligans would LET it slide. Slowly he eased down on the speed of the hoverbike, slowing down to a crawl. Stella’s head jerked up in confusion as he rested his foot against the gas.

            “There’s about a mile to go before we reach Frost Manor.” Nack informed the girl. He could almost see the joy drain from her face once again. “It’s your choice now, Sheila. You either go back to the Frost Manor and quit your little adventure or you keep going. I get paid either way so at this point I don’t care which you choose. But ya gotta choose now, because ya ain’t going back once you make the choice. We ain’t gonna let ya.” He received a raised brow from the pair in the sidecar next to him and groaned audibly. “… _I_ won’t let ya.”

            “…Rev it up, weasel.” She slumped back down against the sidecar. “I…I’ve caused my aunt and uncle too much trouble now, I think. I hired you three and the entire job has been riddled with disaster. And it isn’t your fault. It’s mine, because I couldn’t realize that my aunt was going to be concerned enough about me disappearing to send someone after me.”

            “…Yeah, but she was an incompetent someone, if that means anything.” Nack quipped; the arctic fox giggled slightly, though she did not pull of the slump she had settled into. “Look, kid. I won’t say I get what yer feeling, because I don’t. I don’t like my family. Don’t like my sister, don’t like my mom, don’t like my dad, don’t like all those assholes that always showed up for family reunions and took off with half our food. It’s something of a family tradition for us. We kinda just don’t like each other and we’d all probably shoot each other in the back of the head given the chance.”

            “So I guess to me, when I see somethin’ like yer aunt and uncle openly hiring shady criminals, that seems kinda important.” He continued. The girl watched him curiously over her shoulder. “That’s a pair of pretty affluent bastards with a reputation to keep. A reputation they’re wastin’, I guess, just to get you. And I ain’t very familiar with having a good family but that sounds like what it probably is. So kid…maybe you should focus on the family you GOT instead of the family you don’t got. Sure, yer parents might be alive…but what does that say about them if they didn’t bother to come back for you? Not much, if ya ask me. So my advice…is go with the people who actually give a shit about you. That crap ain’t easy to find, y’know.”

            Stella stared down at the snow below the sidecar carefully, ears flopping to the side as the icy cold wind blew at her thick fur. One arm waved absentmindedly downward, shifting her weight to touch the snow. Gloved fingers drew small patterns within it—stick figures, together with each other. Then, slowly, a small smile began to stretch across her face as she turned to face the Hooligans.

            “…You have a sister?”

            Nack laughed. “A TWIN sister.”

            “What?! That can’t be! She must be a really ugly woman to be your twin!” Bean’s mouth popped out of Bark’s scarf quickly, laughing raucously as the polar bear rolled his red eyes and rested his head in his hand. There was only so long that one could truly keep Bean the Dynamite quiet.

            “You’ve MET her, Bean. You used to work with her!”

            “Ohhhhh, you mean THAT twin sister?”

            “How many twin sisters do you think one man can have?!”

            “I dunno, I thought maybe you were hiding one under your stupid hat.”

            “For God’s sake, Bean! My hat isn’t stupid!”

            The fox and the bear watched casually as Nack and Bean ran across the snowfields, the duck having successfully aggravated his boss again. It didn’t seem to bother or even faze the dynamo; if anything, he seemed pleased, a loud cackle echoing off the ice protrusions scattered around the Aurora Ice Field. Stella relaxed against the front of her sidecar to watch the pair trample through the snow—somehow, this activity of achieving nothing calmed her nerves a bit.

            Her smile quickly faded at the thought of said nerves as they returned back like a smack in the face. Nack was right, for once, but she couldn’t say that she knew how to confront her aunt and uncle. How was one supposed to return to people after leaving them without notice for months on end? Was she supposed to just waltz right back into the Frost Manor, all smiles, and just tell everyone she was back? The fox couldn’t see that going over well.

            She jerked back to attention when she felt a warm paw on her back, and a shadow falling over her form. Bark had pushed himself out of his cramped sidecar to kneel aside Stella’s; the bear’s yellow form towered over the little girl. Normally she would’ve felt threatened. Even now, she felt like she should be. But she couldn’t bring herself to, not with the past week and the firm but comforting paw situated on her back as if to keep her from collapsing from her own fear.

            “I…I know he’s right. Nack, I mean. He’s not good with words, but he’s right.” Stella began; she didn’t expect anything in reply. It just felt better to talk to someone knowing they’d listen, and Bark seemed to be an expert listener. “They care about me and all I’ve done is make them worry and waste a fortune paying a scam artist mercenary to find me. How am I supposed to just walk into the Manor? How CAN I just walk into the Manor? How could someone possibly do what I’ve done and…and just think they can turn around and return…?”

            To her surprise, Bark gestured his arm out while pushing her forward. The girl stumbled forward and sent the bear a curious look when she rested gently against the rim of the sidecar. He gestured forward again, another quick and smooth move…an almost welcome move. A fearless move. Stella shrunk into herself.

            “Just…just do it? Just walk right in? What if they’re mad?”

            The bear shrugged, and reached out a large arm to place his hand on the girl’s chest. The entire paw was almost the size of her whole torso. She still for a moment, staring down and trying to interpret what the silent bruiser was trying to communicate. Bark shook his head and poked gently on the left side of her chest. Her own smaller fingers splayed out across the area, feeling the rhythmic thump of her heart under the many folds of cloth.

            “You think that if they care that much then they’ll just…they’ll just…” She choked on her words, falling forward into the hand. The polar bear sighed, lifting the fox up into his paw to place against his chest. Immediately her face was buried into the yellow fur, fingers gripping at the dark green scarf as the child tried her best to conceal her sobs.

            It felt like it lasted forever. It felt like her eyes had become a red mess, and her fur had turned into a mangled dirt magnet. The little girl FELT like a complete wreck as she finally pushed away from the polar bear, a flush crossing her face when she realized Nack and Bean had stopped quarreling to observe them. She collapsed against the bottom of the sidecar and shook her head…then jumped up when she felt fingers lacing through her hair, wide eyes on the stupid grin pasted on Bean’s face.

            “Can’t go back to Auntie and Uncle with red eyes and a messy head. They’ll think we was bad to you!” Bean shook his head, emphasizing himself with his pointer finger aimed at the sky. “And if they think that they might not pay us.”

            Stella chuckled weakly, shaking her head.

            “Yeah. I’ll be home soon. I think I should maybe get prepared.”

\---------------------------

           Nack had been in manors before. Of course he had—he had a job that regularly involved ransacking them for employers. Never knew what someone could want in a huge house, after all, and it always opened the opportunity to become a little more sticky with his fingers…take a little more than he had been instructed. And this one begged to be raided. Every inch of the massive entryway was painted a vibrant, almost eye straining white highlighted with gold linings. Even against the walls, gold leaf climbed up and formed the façade of winter trees. Far ahead of them was a spiraling staircase with plush red velvet stairs, descending down to the polish marble floor that reflected the massive crystal chandelier above them.

All if it begged to be stolen. At the moment, though, the weasel reached out to slap Bean’s hand away from a fancy vase in the foyer of the glorious home.

            “We can grab stuff on the way OUT, you dingus.” He hissed under his breath. Bean just pointed his beak up in the air and crawled back onto Bark’s arm with faux-indigence. Nack rolled his eyes; he worked with such idiots. He couldn’t believe it sometimes. “They’ll be here soon. You wanna get caught before we even get the paycheck?”

            “Caught doing what, might I ask?”

            Both of them looked up in shock as Stella cradled her face out of sight in both shame and embarrassment. At the top of the staircase stood a tall woman, a fully grown arctic fox with luxurious and well attended black locks cascading over her shoulders. The finely tended to hair curled around a thick white tail, equal in its precise tending. Her neck was clutched in the grip of the tight chocker atop her shirt, mostly hidden under the black folds of the traditional dress that swirled around her heels. Lines of red silk wound around her middle, with two strips hanging loosely by her right hip.

            The only word for her was glamorous. And it seemed for a glamorous woman came a glamorous man—aside her stood a tall fox, his fur a copper brown with thick blonde locks curling around his large ears. A suit top was precisely arranged across his chest, complete with a double kerchief tucked into his left pocket. He stood with a clear confident swagger, backed up by his broad chest and large arms. Not a man to be trifled with, clearly—he had the presence of an army general with the analyzing gaze that he sent across them.

            “Can I assume this is good ol’ Auntie and Uncle?” Nack muttered to Stella. The girl nodded nervously and Nack’s attitude changed completely, a false confident smile spreading across his face as he approached the pair descending down the staircase. One hand held out for a shake; neither of them responded to it, only treating the ragtag group of mercenaries to a confused and distrustful look. “It’s nice to meet ya, Miss…”

            “Vanessa. Vanessa Frost. This is my husband, Erik Fairfield.” Came the clipped reply. “And may I inquire who you might be? I certainly can’t say you have given a good impression, considering you’ve tromped in here with my niece who has been missing for almost a year now.”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” Nack growled, hand wrapping around the gun at his side. The woman snorted derisively, gesturing at the various guards lining the sides of the room. Large, white wolves dressed in gold and white suits—they nearly blended into the wall with their stillness. But deep gold eyes were all focused in on the weasel and ready to move the second the weapon came out of his holster. Slowly, his hand withdrew and Vanessa shook her head.

            “You’re a crass little thing, aren’t you. Bit of a coward, too. It figures that only cowards would pursue the route of child abductions, though.” Her husband spoke up; his tone was even less friendly than his wife’s. Nack took a careful step back from the wealthy foxes. “Stella Frost is a precious member of the Frost Manor, and of the Frost family. Perhaps, Vanessa, we should just have them tear these intruders apart right now? They ARE trespassing, after all.”

            “Uncle Erik, no!” Stella pushed past the purple weasel, rushing up to the copper fox as Nack fell unsophisticatedly against Bark’s stomach with a loud string of swears. “I hired them, Uncle! They’re the ones who brought me back here! They…they’re the reason I’m even alive to BE here.”

            “...Is this true?” The older fox asked, placing one hand on the girl’s head as he inspected the Hooligans with a judging glare. Nack just stuck out his tongue. “…I did hear that those we sent out had been unsuccessful…”

            “It’s true, Uncle Erik.” Stella replied, clutching tightly to the bottom of his suit jacket. The pair of foxes exchanged worried glances, still casting gazes over the group of filthy mercenaries. Both armed to the teeth and accompanied by a bear who could probably snap them in half effortlessly, Nack imagined it probably wasn’t easy to look upon them with a sympathetic eye. He hadn’t ever looked for that and he wasn’t looking for it today—they were here to drop off the kid and get out.

            He hadn’t, though, expected both of the foxes to fling themselves at him and wrap him in a hug.

            The corner of his mouth twitched violently as the tall vixen snuggled into his shoulder, choking sounds of thanks barely audible against his fur. The weasel nervously grasped at both of their arms, plucking them off him and backing away a bit—they immediately clung to each other instead. He could help but think that these two were a rather odd pair. Then again, Nack wasn’t exactly used to helping people like this. Usually he took the money of those performing barely legal ventures and they either laughed their way to the bank in the case of success, or got angry at each other and swore revenge in the case of failure.

            Actually having people crying thanks at his feet was something new. He wasn’t sure he liked it. Scratch that, he was completely sure he didn’t like it. A client had never seemed so damn uncomely before, and there was just something awkward about watching a pair of grown adults cry at his feet while a seven year old tried to rein them in. It was like watching some sort of embarrassing private moment, and it didn’t help that Stella was beginning to get teary eyed too.

            Nack jolted backwards when hands wrapped around his shoulders again, the teary eyed fox woman holding him firmly in place with a wavering smile on her face. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to us…how much it means to ME. Everything was just so very upset when Stella disappeared but now that she’s back, the Frost Manor can go back to the way it should be. I can’t thank you enough—you’ve helped me avoid a disaster.”

            “WE can’t thank you enough.” Erik corrected, pushing in next to his wife. “I insist you stay the weekend at the Frost Manor. All your meals will be covered, and you can be formally invited to the return ceremony on Sunday!”

            “Return ceremony?” Bean hung down from Bark’s neck, a grin across his beak. “Is that like a party, maybe?”

            “Yes, indeed. We’ll be celebrating the return of the Frost inheritor with a massive ceremony, with all of the locals in attendance. And since you not only retrieved, but protected Stella, it would be foolish to NOT invite you all.” Erik explained. Nack couldn’t see the face of the bird behind him, but the joy radiating off of Bean was like standing next to the sun itself. The weasel groaned; there wasn’t going to be a way out of this one. Not with Bean being this attached to the idea. He’d just whine for days on end if they didn’t attend, and Nack had to admit he’d prefer a single evening of irritation as opposed to a full week of it.

            “Fine. We’ll attend.” The weasel grumbled; Vanessa clapped her hands approvingly then placing her fingers in her mouth to whistle for a maid. A young lemming girl scurried into the room, head bowed to Vanessa. Several other lemming girls peeking from the staircase above curiously, chattering quietly to themselves as they examined the odd newcomers. Nack snicked. He supposed they weren’t used to seeing rugged, _handsome_ hitmen in their house—he tipped his hat to them and the girls jumped up to run off.

            “Lisa, if you could gather up our guest’s belongings and take them to one of the guest rooms in the west wing?” Vanessa instructed; the lemming girl nodded and hurried over to them. Her expression seemed confused as she circled around them looking for luggage, or anything to take away to the guest room. Bark placed a hand on her head and pushed her back to the front of them, shaking his head.

            “We, eh, we ain’t much on luggage.” Nack explained. The lemming bowed nervously and shuffled back over to Vanessa. The woman batted her hand absentmindedly, paying little attention the maid; Lisa bowed her head and scuttled away shamefully. “It’s okay if we keep our ride out in the front, ain’t it? I didn’t really see a parking lot or anything…”

            “We’ll have one of the help tend to it.” Vanessa replied, following her husband up the stairs. Her free hand gestured Stella after her and the girl waved goodbye to them uncertainly. “Until then, make yourself comfortable...there’s a very big ceremony coming up, isn’t there, Stella?”

            “Yeah…” Stella said quietly, clutching at her Aunt’s dress. She looked down from the high rise stairs and send a smile to the Hooligans. “I’ll, uh…I’ll see you guys there.”

            “…Yeah.” Nack muttered as the three disappeared into the upper hallway. He dipped his hat over his eyes in thought as his companions explored the extravagant entryway, their every movement followed by the deep gold eyes of the guards. The maids curiously were glancing in on them every now and then, cute little things they were, but Nack couldn’t be concerned with them right now.

            Something felt wrong here, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. 


	13. Snow On The Roof

 

Chapter Thirteen

Snow On the Roof

 

 

            Sunday came so quickly; the weekends always seemed to fly by.

            They were stuck waiting in their room for the ceremony to start. Nack lay on the soft bed with his arms behind his head, staring blankly at the ceiling as his two partners explored the room around them. Or, more accurately, ransacked it. What they had been given to stay in was undeniably extravagant: a large, two bed room decorated with antique lamps, beds encrusted with a mantle of polished gems, and classic paintings easily worth millions. The weasel liked his riches but he couldn’t imagine how someone could live this way. It was like being housed inside a particularly gaudy kaleidoscope, with all the bright light induced headaches that came along with it.

            He tipped his head to the side to watch Bean. The bird was making rounds about the room, meticulously snatching anything that he could shove into the burlap sack that typically was kept in the bottom compartment of the Marvelous Queen. Several of the paintings had already disappeared into there; meanwhile, some of the smaller things had been tucked either into his ascot or under Bark’s red hat. The bear didn’t seem to care about the commotion the bird was making; he just lay against the wall with his hat seated against a leg for easy access.

            “Do you think if I pick at it, I could get these rubies out? I mean, a well placed cherry bomb could probably pop them out too…” Bean speculated, perching on one of the bedposts. One gloved finger tapped against the shimmering gem embedded in the headboard. Nack rolled his eyes and waved the bird’s hand away from above his head. “Boy, ain’t you been talkative today! What’s your problem? We might actually be able to break even to our original payment fee if we get enough stuff out of this house.”

            “Ah, shut it. We ain’t gonna find anything if you keep flappin’ yer damn mouth instead of looking, so get back to work.” Nack snapped. It didn’t seem to faze Bean much. The bird simply shrugged and climbed off the post, taking to rifling through the drawers of the bed stand. The weasel knew, however, that the same flippant response wasn’t coming out of the bear sitting aside the window—he could feel the burning, red eyed gaze narrowing in on him. Bark was nothing if not a man with an intimidating presence.

            “…What? What d’ya want?” Nack grunted; Bean paused and looked up to the two Hooligans. The weasel leader had pushed his hat over his face to avoid the inspecting glare of the bruiser. “We got what we’re here for, we completed the damn mission. So get off my back.”

            “If we completed the damn mission then why’re we still here?” Bean supplied for the silent bear. Nack shot a scathing glare at the duck—as usual, it had no effect on the duck, who bounded over to his partner with a goofy smile on his face. Within seconds he was upon the bear’s shoulder, resting comfortably against the head of the yellow furred brawler.

            “Because we were invited to the damn ceremony.”

            “What does that matter to us?”

            Nack grimaced. The dynamo’s abilities to read Bark’s intentions were uncanny and it more often than not tended to bite the weasel in the ass. And already this was going in a direction he didn’t like. “Because we were invited. It’s a fancy party with free fancy food, who the hell is gonna turn that down?”

            “You’re suspicious.”

            “Suspicious a’ what?! I ain’t got nothing to be suspicious of because I gotta give a damn to be suspicious! And I don’t give a damn so I guess I ain’t suspicious, AM I.” Nack snapped, sitting up to level his own bitter glare at the polar bear and his companion. Neither seemed particular phased, nor convinced. “Yeah, sure. The situation here don’t seem quite right. So the whole vibe in this place is off. So I don’t think that all of th’ pieces match up! So what? We got paid. It ain’t my problem no more.”

            “But we’re still here.” Bean supplied.

            “Ya already made that clear, jackass!” Nack shouted, practically jumping off the cushioned bed in frustration. “Yes! We are still here! We’re gonna attend the ceremony! Maybe I’m just a LITTLE bit curious about this bullshit. We did almost get killed to get where we are now, after all, so I think I can reserve that damn right! Especially if somethin’ in this stupid place is gonna pop out and kill the kid I spent my time on protecting!”

            The room went silent. Bean peeked over Bark’s shoulder, hands digging into the green scarf around the bear’s neck, as the yellow polar bark just focused intently on the huffing weasel. Nack’s hands had clenched into fists, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face as he tried to collect himself. His purple fur seemed to puff itself out in frustration as his mouth curved upwards into a snarl, revealing the uncomely length of his massive and intimidating fang. For some time they all simply stood there, almost as if in a shoot-off.

            “Na, can lie not. Self.”

            Nack raised a brow, despite still being clouded in frustration; Bark was talking. Bark NEVER talked. Even Bean was looking at the bear with some amount of surprise, and there was very little that the bruiser did that surprised the duck. Nack himself had never been unaware that the bear could talk—he would’ve considered himself a supremely (more) unfit leader if he hadn’t—but they all knew it wasn’t something the bear never did. It had always been simpler to just let Bean work as his interpreter as opposed to showcasing the polar bear’s somewhat limited grasp on speaking his second language.

            “Nack lie lot. To self too. Only lie…” Bark paused as stress crossed his face.

            “Can only lie so much.” Bean patted the bear on the side of the head, supplying what the yellow beast needed. Bark nodded.

            “Ya. Can only lie so much. Give up is need.”

            “Well, you heard it from the bear’s mouth, Snaggletooth.” Bean chuckled, resting his elbow on the top of Bark’s head. Nack gaped as the bear had wrapped his scarf back over his mouth again, eyes closing as he leaned back against the white painted wall in satisfaction. “You can only lie to yourself so much. We can’t do much of anything if you ain’t gonna be honest with us. It kinda is easier if we reserve the lying for the public and stay clear between each other.”

            “What, you wanna call us a happy family and sing campfire songs next?” Nack grumbled irately. But his aggressive resolve had died down; body unlocking from its tense posture and flopping back into the cushions of the bed below. “Alright, I’ll be _honest_ with ya, then. I don’t like this place. Somethin’ seems a little bit off about it and I can’t place what the hell it is. Auntie and Uncle seem like nice, upstanding people so that puts an even more annoying wrench in it.”

            “Is it the fact that all the maids seem scared? Like, always?”

            “Huh?” Nack stared over at Bean; the dynamo had a mischievous grin spread across his beak. “The…maids?”

            “They seem skittish.”

            “They’re…lemmings. Lemmings tend to be skittish.”

            “How ‘bout the dozens of guards who look they came straight outta the mob?” Bean’s grin didn’t waver at Nack’s comeback—if anything, it only grew. “Big, massive snow wolves who look ready to bite anyone who comes near. THAT’S pretty suspicious, if you ask me.”

            Nack was about to reply, but a quiet knock came from the door of the guest room. He stared at it, slowly moving forward to open the door—keeping the chain latch firmly bolted. Through the small crack of open doorway, he saw one of the young lemming maids. What looked like one of the few suitcases from the Marvelous Queen was clutched tightly in her hands. Her beady eyes darted back and forth nervously—common behavior for a lemming, but a bit over the top. As if some sort of predator was waiting to pounce down on her. She squeaked loudly when she realized that she was being watched from the open door.

            “H-hello, sir, I…I am E-Emma Lemming! I, ah, I’m h-here to deliver your l-luggage, sir!” She stuttered, pushing out the suitcase in an almost defensive gesture—unfortunately, it seemed too heavy for her to actually hold it up as a shield. Nack studied it carefully; it had looked like one of the suitcases from the Marvelous Queen but upon further inspection he realized it wasn’t. It was too big, too bulky, and far too new looking. The Hooligans didn’t keep much with them, but most of what they did was beaten down and used.

            “’S not ours.” Nack grunted, moving to close the guest room door. Quickly the lemming maid shoved her foot in between the frame and the closing entryway. A clear expression of pain passed over her already trembling features—the weasel drew the door away from her throbbing foot in shock. “The hell did you do that for?!”

            “I…I am q-quite sure that this i-is your l-luggage, sir.” She pushed the suitcase forward against the crack of the door; it seemed to take all of her strength to shove the sizable case against the door. The more Nack looked at it, the more he knew it wasn’t theirs, but it didn’t seem like the girl was going to give up—with a quick motion he undid the chain latch and let her push the suitcase into their room. Bean and Bark stared at it in confusion. They didn’t seem to recognize it either.

            Nack shrugged in vain—he supposed if there was going to be a luggage mix up, at the very least he could do was profit off it. Anyone else staying in this manor would undoubtedly be a very wealthy individual, and whatever they chose to lug around in a suitcase too heavy to carry would likely be worth a fortune. Just another thing to add to their profit…he glance over to the lemming maid from the side of his eyes.

            “Miss Emma, was it?” He leaned against the side of the door and the maid balked immediately, fear crossing into her eyes. “Hey, calm down. I just wanted to ask you a question or two about this manor. That’s okay, ain’t it?”

            “I-I suppose.” She said uneasily.

            “We were wondering what was with the guards around here. It seems a little bit excessive for a mansion in the middle of nowhere.” Nack asked casually, leaning towards the brunette lemming. She shuffled back quickly, ears flattened and cheeks red. It was clear as day that most of the staff in the manor didn’t have much outside world exposure—anything seemed to make the maids uncomfortable. Still, steadying herself against the banister of the hallway, the lemming straightened herself up to look them in the eye (albeit with much effort).

            “T-that’s a, uhm, that’s a g-good question. Th…w-we don’t really know? T-they were hired by M-Mr. Fairfield after the death of t-the mister and missus.” Emma explained. Her tone was uncertain, almost fearful; Nack was starting to get the idea that living under the Frost Manor was somewhat of an uncomfortable ordeal. “T-the staff objected, b-but Mr. Fairfield said it was n-necessary to keep the Frost Manor and the Frost h-heiress safe…”

            “So Uncle hired the goons, huh? To keep Stella safe?”

            “I…it’s been the utmost p-priority of the F-Frost Manor to keep the Frost h-heiress clo…s-safe.” Emma quickly averted her eyes, unable to meet the narrowed glare now fixed on her. “T-there are those who would c-come after the young m-miss if she wasn’t protected. S-she’s the majority heir, a-a-after all…s-so Mr. Fairfield decided to hire them.”

            “And that’s all you know?”

            “Y-yes?”

            “Really now?”

            “Y…yes…?” Emma said nervously; her eyes immediately darted to the revolver hanging from Nack’s hip and the weasel grinned, passing his hand across it. Bean let out a hissing laugh of amusement as the lemming maid cowered away from the bounty hunters. “A-alright, alright! W-what I do to keep a job…l-look, it’s just a rumor. But a lot of the maids th-think that M-Mr. Fairfield hired the new s-security from the muh…from the m-mafia. Or a-at the very least from somewhere kinda, u-uhm…shady.”

            “Kiddo, I know my shady, and those guys fit the profile perfectly.” Nack mused, fishing out a cigarette to light up. She cringed at the sight, fingers covering her noses. “I knew there was somethin’ shifty here. And it looks like it all goes back to Erik Fairfield. Probably has something to do with the fortune, I’d imagine…so why the hell did he let US into the picture…?”

            Nack paused, taking a long drag off his cigarette as he slowly turned around to approach the suitcase; the lemming maid behind him took the chance to scamper off desperately. The weasel held out a hand, gesturing Bean and Bark to move to separate corners of the room—it left the mysterious suitcase surrounded. Slowly, he withdrew his revolver, and reached out to unlatch one of the locks.

            Without warning, a set of claws ripped through the hard leather. All three of them jumped away from the suitcase, with a lit bomb sparking to life in Bean’s hand and the Bark’s massive fists held out in front of himself. Silence filled the room for a second, the only noises being the fizzling of Bean’s bomb and the loud click from the hammer of Nack’s revolver. The arm holding up his gun was supported under the elbow by his free arm, but right at the moment, his fingers itched for the other revolver hanging from his belt. It was too tense for his liking to only have one gun in his hands.

            His anxiety was proven right when, seconds later, the claw ripped at the leather again and split the suitcase in two to reveal a white furred female wolf. Her eyes, like the downstairs guards, were a vibrant gold. They stood out even more under the swathes of black fabric wrapped around her muzzle and forehead, the makeshift mask traveling downwards into the v-neck of a black bodysuit. Sharp, intimidating claws protruded from her paws and the white muzzle curled into a snarl.

            The trio weren’t even given a second to respond; the wolf immediately jumped at Bark, tearing her claws across the front of his face. With a swift upward lunge of the fist, she slammed into the ceiling roughly only to fall back to the ground on all fours. She spun on the heel of her foot to launch herself at Bean; the action was promptly met with another fist in the side as Bark rammed the woman against the wall. She slinked out of the grip right before it could tighten, throwing a foot out underneath his legs and knocking the bear to the ground with an unceremonious crash.

Quickly the wolf dodged out of the way of the mass only to be met with a barrage of bullets. Nack’s hand finally met with the revolver at his side, both guns clutched in his hand with his finger rapidly pulling the trigger. The only response he got was the woman kicking the footboard of the bed out of place and into the path of the bullets. Grimacing, the weasel ducked behind the doorway to reload his guns.

While he did this, the she-wolf found herself barraged with what almost seemed like a wall of explosives. Jumping atop them and flipping from bomb to bomb, they dynamo grinned when he saw a flash of fear in the woman’s eyes—she was only barely managing defense against the bombs. As they hit the bed, they let out a fierce explosion that blew all of them through into the next room. Nack cursed under his breath and slipped back into the guest room to rest against the remains of the destroyed wall with a reloaded revolver in each hand.

Dust and silence followed the explosion; peeking around the splintered wood, Nack couldn’t see a trace of the assassin. And that was all she could possibly be: an assassin. He didn’t know why and he didn’t care. All he could connect was that a wolf, looking much like the security of Frost Manor, was trying to kill him. Whatever the hell was going on didn’t matter. Nack had never been too fond of anyone trying to kill him, especially when they clearly were working for the people that he had ended up doing a favor.

            _Some people just don’t know how to repay shit_ , he thought before slowly easing himself into the room. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Bark groaning as he lifted himself up, with Bean unconscious by his side. The bird had never been very good with hard hits—he could definitely dish them out but he could never take a genuine frontal attack to his person. But Nack had to admit that it did put them in a nasty spot without their clear advantage that was the dynamo.

            His finger hovered over the trigger of his gun as he carefully side-stepped into the room with his back against the wall. The last thing he wanted was to show his blind spot to the she-wolf that had to be here— _somewhere_ —in the room. The weasel caught the polar bear’s red eyes; one gun waved in the direction of the broken wall. Bark got the message and, throwing the unconscious Bean onto his back, slowly moved to block the open escape.

            Silence. Nothing.

            And then Nack realized that he was feeling a breeze against his face.

            With a jerk, the weasel snapped his attention onto the window on the far side of the room—the glass barely hanging onto the frame, with the majority of the shards lying against the rich red carpet. Within moments he was over at the mess, jerking open the broken frame to push himself out over the three stories of the Manor below him. One foot secured him on the window, with two fingers looped around the upper frame to keep in him in place while he scanned the surrounding roof.

            He was interrupted by a slash that came from above his muzzle.

            The weasel was thrown across the open roof, slamming against the shingles as he rolled down the slight slope to rest in the drainage gutter. The water was ice cold, almost half frozen, and caked in snow; the sharp sensation had the weasel clambering out in seconds. He was greeted by a foot slamming down on his hand, twisted back and forth until he finally released his grip on the revolver he hadn’t lost when the assassin had hit. The wolf quickly kicked the weapon across the shingles; it slid down into the pipe far out of his reach.

            “You think you’re hot stuff, huh, you little shit?” Nack grinned—it was a loose, unconfident gesture. It wasn’t easy to talk too big while lying in front of an enemy with no weapon, especially with the blood caking his white muzzle and running down his exposed tooth. “You don’t know shit. You’re just a little newcomer.”

            “Brazen words for a man pushed against the side of a roof with not a single weapon in hand.” The assassin finally spoke, her tone harsh and snappy. Nack chuckled, coughing slightly. He was dismayed to see flecks of blood falling out below him as he stared at the shingles. Wobbly arms barely managed to lift his body; with a swift kick from the wolf, he slammed back against the roof. Her foot remained firmly against his chest. “You call me newcomer and yet you bleed underneath my feet.”

            “That what you’re into, honey?” Nack managed to grin smarmily at the wolf. Her eyes narrowed threateningly. “Hey, I don’t judge…I just have to say. You can’t call yourself a newcomer if you’re so underprepared.”

            “Underprepared? What….?!” Her eyes widened as the weasel smacked an arm against her leg, tripping the wolf up as he rolled away from her grip. With an enraged roar she fell to all fours to rush him…only to be greeted with the barrel of a small gun. Her eyes widened as the cold steel pressed against her forehead. “W-what…how?!”

            “I’m a sniper, kiddo. You think I’d just have two guns?” Nack chuckled. “One or two revolvers on my person wouldn’t keep me safe. I’m a busy man who gets into busy business! And right now, my business is _why the hell you’re trying to kill me_.”

            The wolf stared at him; fear was in her eyes but she stayed silent.

            “You work for the Frost Manor, don’t you? You’re with those security guards from downstairs. I saved your precious heiress, so I’m kinda on the confused side of why the hell you’d want me dead.” Nack elaborated. Still she said nothing. “Look, this is kinda important and I kinda have places to be. A doctor, for one.”

            “I…cannot. It is the pledge of the Auroran Wolves to not turn on an employee.” She dipped her head, as if awaiting her death. Nack just groaned in annoyance, flipping the small gun back into his belt. She shot him a questioning look.

            “The Auroran Wolves, I know your kind. You’re a member of one of the biggest mafias that the Arctic of Mobius has to offer.” He snorted. “Real focused on tradition, right? Look, I’m really impressed by your dedication—I sure as hell wouldn’t have it—but this really isn’t the time for it. We can keep fighting and one of us will get killed, or we can knock it off and you can give me the information I need.”

            “….I am sorry. Nothing personal. You just MUST be deceased before the ceremony.” She bowed her head and then lunged forward at the weasel. Immediately Nack dropped to his knees, letting her fly over his body as he rolled over the revolver that had been lodged in the gutter of the roof. Nimble fingers reloaded the familiar metal, and swiftly he spun around to face the assassin before she could dig her claws into his neck.

            Blood streamed past her fangs as bullets riddled her chest, body slammed down against the roof as she twitched violently. Nack cringed at the sight—it was never pleasant when they didn’t die immediately. Especially when they couldn’t possibly survive. With a sigh, he slipped one last bullet into the chamber of the gun and held it against her head.

            “Sorry, kid.”

            The shot rang out across the woods, seeming louder than the barrage he had sent into her chest. Nack pocketed the revolver back at his side as he limped back through the window to collapse on the red carpet below. He was quickly pulled up to rest in Bark’s arm, right next to Bean’s unconscious body—a small grin passed across the weasel’s face.

            “What’re you, my mom?” He coughed out. The bear just rolled his eyes as the weasel settled into the soft fur. Before sleep could take him like it had the dynamo, Nack’s eyes snapped open suddenly. “What time is it?”

            Bark looked around, finding a clock and jerking his head at it. Nack struggled to lift himself up to look at it. When he saw it, though, his eyes narrowed immediately. “We’re late for the ceremony.”

            Bark sent him an incredulous looking, clearly expressing a concern of them going to the event in such a state. Nack shook his head vigorously, kicking his foot across the span of the bear’s chest to kick at Bean. The bird murmured in irritation, shifting back and forth as he tried to return to the conscious world. Nack rolled his eyes; he didn’t time for this, or to explain it all to Bark.

            “Just trust me on this one. We HAVE to get to that ceremony as soon as possible.”

 

 


	14. Chandelier

Chapter Fourteen

Chandelier

 

 

            The ornate ballroom was often considered the crown jewel upon the Frost Manor. With enough capacity to hold around three hundred and then some, the expansive room was arranged atop the far side of the building as to allow it to look over the snowy plains of the Aurora Fields. Massive windows towered even the tallest of beasts, only to be topped by smaller windows—all covered in elaborately carved gold trimmings depicting war victories long in the past. A mural telling the same tales spanned across the ceiling. In the very center of the hall was a crystal chandelier of elephantine proportions. It sparkled gloriously in the candlelight, down upon those considered worthy to stand in its presence.

            At the top of the massive stairway leading down to the ballroom, Stella sighed deeply. This had never really been her thing. It was heartwarming that so many people would gather to put together such a massive celebration in lieu of her return to the Frost Manor, but it just made her uncomfortable in the long run. These ornate carvings, the massive chandelier, the sweeping white stairway down to the marble floor…even when she was younger it had seemed far too excessive.

            And now that she had been outside of the manor, said thought only throbbed harder at the back of her head.

            Stella shook it off as a hand landed on her shoulder; she looked up with a weary smile to her uncle as he extended his hand outwards to her. A warm expression of worry was painted onto his features—his niece couldn’t help but feel bad that he had noticed her little internal conflict. It wasn’t even a real conflict. Stella had to remind herself that she was living the ‘high life’ here, and no matter how weird or awkward it felt, it just wasn’t fair to turn up her nose at it and act ungrateful that all these people had gathered to celebrate her return.

            With a weary sigh, she smiled weakly and placed her hand in her uncle’s. He led the girl down the stairs slowly, her smaller hand clutching his tightly. A small and reassuring squeeze came in return.

            “I know you’re worried, Stella. But don’t be. We’re all just happy to see you back. We missed you.” He reminded the white fox; Stella looked down at her feet half out of embarrassment and half to make sure she wouldn’t trip over the long white silk dress they had shoved her in. Then, quickly, her eyes darted back and forth across the ballroom and back up the stairway. “Are you looking for your bounty hunter escorts? I’m sorry to say this, but Vanessa told me that they left earlier today.”

            “They left? But Nack told me that he was coming to the ceremony.” Stella protested. Erik glanced around, worry in his eyes, unsure what to say to her. “Uncle Erik, they TOLD me they would come.”

            “I know, sweetie, but they seem to have just up and left after we paid them.” He said uncomfortably as they reached the final step; Stella’s gaze was drilling into him. “Vanessa says she signed the check and everything. It was all very odd. I suppose you can only expect bounty hunters to be bounty hunters. They unfortunately just happen to be the types who only care about money. It’s very pandemic in that industry, I’m afraid to say. I’m sorry, dear.”

            “But they said they—“ Stella was about to protest when her aunt swooped in on them, a group of ladies in tow. One of her arms reached out to pull the white fox girl towards her into a hug, breaking her hand away from her uncle’s simultaneously. Stella made a loud coughing sound as she was smothered in the thick silk and heavy padding of her aunt’s dress, her ears surrounded by the shrill and piercing laugh that seemed to be a necessity for noble women.

            “Here she is! Here’s my baby, the star of the show.” Vanessa cooed. Stella had to hold herself back from cringing at the near saccharine tone—as well as the cooing and preening that followed from the women at her side, who poked and prodded at her like she was some sort of doll. “Ladies, this is my niece! She just got back from a VERY big adventure, didn’t she?”

            Stella started when she realized the question was addressed towards her. “Uh, yes. I went a long way away. To, uh, try and find…uh, try and find some things. It was a big adventure. I saw lots of cool stuff.”

            “My, my, what it must be like to outside of the Aurora Field.” One of the women, a small mouse aside Vanessa, said dreamily as she fanned herself. “Its full of all that danger that you see in the movies and whatnot! It must’ve been very trying to someone of such stature as yourself, with all those awful criminals trying to dig into your dear inheritance.”

            “Awful, huh? What?” Was all Stella could manage. Her aunt shot a cold glare at the mouse; the young woman froze in her place. “What’s she talking about?”

            “Oh, some of the locals are exaggerating the story of your experience. Never you mind.” Vanessa reassured her niece, gesturing that the women aside her leave. It didn’t take a second glance—they immediately disappeared into the crowd. “It’s a story that’s getting around. Some of those with lesser breeding are making it into some fantastical tale of criminal activities and espionage. You know how gossip is. Once the word gets out, they’ll never get the story right! Though I suppose the criminal part is right.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Well, those beastly men who accompanied you in…” Vanessa gave her niece a disapproving glance. Stella curled her lip up in annoyance. Was her aunt talking about the Hooligans? They had been the only reason she got back and her aunt has to go and badmouth them. “…and you said some things about a few other convicts who gave you trouble. Not that you’ll ever have to deal with them again. You, my dear niece, will never have to deal with anything of that sort ever again. You can stay here at the Frost Manor forever and ever and avoid those awful sorts.”

            “Auntie, I don’t think—“

            “Well of course you don’t need to think right now, there’s more important matters to be attending to!” Vanessa chirped, grasping her niece and dragging her across the room. The crowd seemed to form a large hold around them as Stella’s uncle followed after the pair in confusion. Stella glanced back and forth in confusion as the guests strayed away from them like they had the plague. “YOU need to worry about talking to this nice crowd about coming back to the Manor, and how you will treat your inheritance! Charity and whatnot, they like to know that sort of thing.”

            “You didn’t tell me I had to make a speech!” Stella squeaked desperately. Vanessa looked back at the girl in confusion, and then shrugged.

            “Impromptu is a very valuable skill.” Her aunt reminded the girl before sticking her fingers in her mouth to give out a shrill whistle. The attention of the entire room was immediately on the both of them. Stella blushed visibly and tried to shrink behind the taller fox, but her aunt pushed her out to the middle of the floor to slink off into the crowd. One free hand pushed her husband back as well, who seemed to be in the middle of trying to lodge a complaint with his wife. Stella looked around nervously.

            “I…I, uh. Hello. I’m Stella. Uh, Stella Frost. Stella Mia Frost.” She glanced back at her aunt, who gestured her to continue. “L-Lady Stella Mia Frost. I ran away recently, I guess, to try and do something. It was a pretty wild adventure…but I think you all kinda already found out about it f-from gossip. But it was probably the most interesting thing to ever happen to me. Maybe the most fun thing to ever happen too. I went to find my parents, but I t-think, uh, I think I found m-myself? M-maybe?”

            She glanced to her aunt again. The vixen was tapping her foot.

            “U-uh, b-but anyways. I was told that, uh, you wanted to know what I was going to do with my inheritance…” She trailed off. A pang of regret hit Stella’s heart when she realized that there probably was no one in the room who had come just for her. They had all come to hear about her bank account and where it was going. What happened to her was interesting gossip to them, and they enjoyed it, but they were all here for the money. To find out how this new figurehead in the Frost family would partake in their celebrations of self-indulgence—after all, there wasn’t a single person in the ballroom who was short on cash.

            She stared at the marble floor, her head dipped and eyes welling with tears as mutters began to break out in the confused crowd. The only people who she had really felt a connection with hadn’t even bothered to come. They had left as soon as their paycheck was signed with Stella as a footnote on their careers. She sniffed loudly, rubbing her face and trying to hold back the tears. Frost Manor and its decades of decadence….for what good? To lock their entire family up in a remote mansion and refuse to be around anything real? Why was she even back here?

            With those thoughts clouding her mind and sobs choking at her throat, she didn’t even notice the gasps from the crowd and the crackling sounds from above. A massive shadow overtook the girl and her red eyes turned to meet the chandelier, its shimmering crystal edges and gold decorations descending upon her with the speed of light. Her eyes widened, a scream catching in her throat as the decadent light came to crash down upon her.

            And then all the air seemed to come out of her.

            She weezed loudly, a crumpled pile on the foot of the stairs. The remains of the glorious chandelier were now a pile of crystal and misshapen gold in the middle of the room. A rough, dark brown leather glove rested firmly on her waist—at her side sat Nack, pushing himself to his feet with a grumble. The fox stared at him with an open mouth and wide eyes; he returned the look with a crooked grin.

            “Hey, how’s it going. Big day, huh?” The weasel coughed. It was only then that the girl realized that he was covered in bruises and scratches. “Assassination attempts everywhere in this place.”

            “Nack, what happened to you?” She cried out, stumbling to her feet. Small hands pulled the bounty hunter up aside her. Nack turned to look at the uncomfortable crowd—they kept their distance from the weasel and his blood matted fur. He grinned widely to showcase his massive fang, snapping his fingers and pointing to the ceiling. Almost on cue, a scream rang out and a large white wolf plummeted from the ceiling to crash onto the pile of crystal shards. Quickly afterwards, the room shook as Bark landed firmly aside the mess. “Ahhh! W-what the…?!”

            “THAT’S what happened to me.” Nack tilted his hat, turning to face Erik and Vanessa. The red fox’s eyes were wide in horror as he stared down upon the crushed chandelier and the body resting upon it; Vanessa’s mouth was pulled into a tight line as her eyes narrowed into slits. Stella stumbled behind the purple weasel to peek out at the pair fearfully. “These wolves, they wouldn’t happen to be a hired asset of the Frost Manor under one of your names, would they? Don’t bother answering, I can guarantee that I’ve got better connections with the Auroran Wolves than you do. It’d be easy to find out even if you want to lie about it.”

            “W-what are you talking about?!” Erik stuttered, holding his hand out in front of his wife. Vanessa placed her hand on her face, shaking her head and muttering to herself in agitation. “What’s going on?”

            “Oh, shut up, Erik.” Vanessa snorted, pushing her red furred husband to the side. He gazed at her in pure confusion; Nack watched the confrontation with amusement and interest reflecting in his eyes. “You act like such a little idiot sometimes. The dirty little bastard is accusing us of trying to kill our niece, and he’s apparently got the connections to prove it. So it looks like the jig is up.”

            “What jig?” Erik asked in confusion. Vanessa rolled her eyes, moving to ignore her husband so she could approach the purple weasel. The bounty hunter moved to push Stella further behind him; Vanessa just snorted and sent a sleazy grin towards the young fox. The crowd behind them just watched in fearful awe as the white vixen and the gunslinger weasel glared at each other.

            Then Nack grinned, pulling out a cigarette to light.

            “So it had nothing to do with Stella’s uncle to begin with. This was all you, wasn’t it, Lady Frost?” He stepped to the side as Vanessa made a slight lunge at him; she slid expertly into place with her eyes set on the girl being pushed behind Nack as he moved. “You made the contract with the Auroran Wolves. You planned this whole ceremony thing all along. You intended to drop that chandelier on your itty bitty niece’s head and take the full 100% of your inheritance, instead of the skimpy 20% you receive while she’s alive.”

            “Auntie Vanessa…” Stella whispered.

            “Oh shut up, you ignorant little brat.” Vanessa rolled her eyes and threw her head back; snapping her fingers, the white wolves gathered around the ballroom to make a barrier around the guests who were attempting to escape. Nack glanced back at them nervously. A grim smile crossed her features, almost sarcastically pitying. “Alright, weasel. You caught me. I did it. I hired Svetlana Vasin to bring her back to the manor, and I hired the wolves to put together this party operation so the whelp could have an ‘accident’ in front of witnesses. No scruff, no paperwork, no suspicions. I even made sure one of my wolves got rid of you three so you wouldn’t interfere...but I guess every plan has its holes.”

            “I guess so.” Nack grinned; a trail of blood from the previous beatings slipped down his tooth and dripped onto the marble floor. The barrel of his gun fixated on the white vixen; she tossed her hair to one side, smirk not disappearing. He clicked back the hammer steadily, eyes matched with hers and hand on Stella’s shoulder. As much as he was trying to keep his confidence, they were definitely out of their league here. Especially with her blunt confession. “Its definitely bold of you to say all of it in front of all these people.”

            “I have nothing to fear. I have an army at my disposal, and no need for this crowd. I can always find new people to hang onto my boots—I can’t easily find a new fortune to try and pick up on, especially one so close to my bank account.” The crowd around them began to shift into a panic, trying to push past the large wolves surrounding them. Vanessa chuckled as she watched the debacle, her husband watching on in horror. “But for you…”

            “Oh what, you think a large mob of wolves can get us?” Nack laughed—it was uncertain, but he managed it as Bark strode up behind him to tower over both of them. Along his shoulder rested the still unconscious Bean; the polar bear had expressed discomfort at leaving his partner back in the room. Right now, Nack was beginning to see why. “Please, I would think you thought better than me. I already got rid of your petty little assassin, after all.”

            “Oh how true!” Vanessa let out a barking laugh this time, scaring the crowd back against the wolves that held them in place. “So, so true. That’s why I invited a very special guest just in case of emergencies.”

            Her eyes traced up the rails of the staircase, smarmy smile pasted across her face. Nack followed her gaze, face whitening as his eyes travelled up the expanse of the massive, scar covered, gun-touting warthog now standing above them with amusement clear in his expression. Bark nudged the bird on his shoulder with his finger nervously, awakening the green dynamo—they were gonna need all the help they needed with what Vanessa was presenting them with.

            Jeb the Tusk cracked his knuckles.


	15. Showdown

Chapter Fifteen

Showdown

 

 

            Nack jumped away with a yelp as the massive warthog’s fist slammed down against the floor. Stella let out a shriek as she was pulled away from them onto Bark’s shoulder, tucked into the green scarf. Chunks of marble flew everywhere as the thick hoof lifted and the deep indent in the hard marble was suddenly clear. The purple weasel felt a shiver run down his spine as his own wide eyes met with the narrowed ones of the massive ex-hitman. Jeb’s mouth was curved into a malicious smile, revealing lines of finely sharpened front teeth.

            “Been a few days, ain’t it, weasel?” Jeb snorted, turning on his hoofs to face the sniper; with wolves crowding at his side, Nack had nowhere to move so he just shot the warthog a hesitant grin as his hands shakily grasped at the gun by his side.

            “Felt like a million years, Jeb. And here I thought you weren’t gonna get out that alive. You know, most would consider it kind of weird to survive being at the epicenter of an explosion of fire and glass, but not you, huh?” Nack rambled. He jumped nearly a foot in the air when the warthog’s massive hoof slammed against the wall above his head. Each protruding spike dug deeply into the stone, the loose rock crumbling from the wall to fall against Nack’s head.

            “You always have been one stupid little shit, ain’tcha? You should’ve learned by now that Jeb the Tusk don’t die. Especially by the hands a’ some incompetent, washed out wannabe hitman like yourself.” Jeb’s grin had morphed into something more malicious, and the wolves around the weasel seemed to have closed in further to the weasel pinned against the wall. “But it do hurt my feelings, boy. It hurts them real bad to know that a little greenhorn punk like yourself would even THINK that you could take me outta th’ picture. So I’m thinkin’ its time YOU left the picture.”

            “WATCH OUT FOR THE DUCK!”           

            Nack flinched and the wolves pressing him into the corner loosen up in confusion; Bean had leaped onto Jeb’s head to spring onto a hanging lamp above the fray. The duck looked barely awake, yawning in annoyance as his hands piled up with small bombs, already fizzling down to the point of no return. Nack watched the dynamo in horror; the idiot was going to blow the Hooligan ringmaster up thanks to his inability to pay attention.

            He looked down in confusion as he felt a hand wrapped around his tail—seated between Jeb’s feet was the smiling white fox child. Nack yelped as he was yanked between the warthog’s legs, the bombs descending down on the group. The wolves were blown off to scurry away, Vanessa screaming orders at them, Bean being thrown away from the blast carelessly to be caught in Bark’s awaiting paw. Nack blinked, face blank, as he stared up at the rest of the Hooligans from beside the polar bear’s foot. Stella sat next to him with a toothy grin…but a sliver of unease in her eyes.

            Nack didn’t have time to deal with it, though. Jeb was already lumbering through the haze of smoke from the bombs, his massive hooves slamming down on the small fires spreading across the floor. The weasel jumped to his feet, dragging the fox with him by her wrist. He held it up to Bark who nodded, taking the girl by her small hand and tucking her back into his scarf. With that, Nack motioned at Bean and Bark and then at the wolves. Bark nodded but Bean just gave him a blank look. The weasel rolled his eyes in exasperation.

            “GET THE WOLVES, you simpleton!” Nack snapped. Bean let out a small gasp of realization clearly laced with amusement; even now the duck couldn’t help but mess with their leader. “I’ll take care of Jeb.”

            “What?! No! Nack, he’s HUGE! He’ll kill you!” Stella shrieked, fumbling through the folds of the massive scarf. Nack snorted.

            “And here you act like I don’t have a plan. Damn, kid, you would’ve thought that you know me better than this by now.” He replied, drawing the pistol out of its holster. “Bark, Bean, get rid of those wolves as quick as you can. I damn well hope you can do that because there’s gotta be SOME reason I’m payin’ you. When you’re done, meet me at the far side of the ballroom. We’ll either be there or we’ll be dead. If it’s the latter then its up to you two.”

            “Wait, what—“ Stella tried to yell back, but was cut off when Bark spun around to slam his massive arm against a group of the white wolves. Bean cackled wildly, jumping atop the bear’s head to leap into the air, throwing handfuls of bombs across the ballroom. The guests who hadn’t yet evacuated in fear screeched, pushing past Vanessa and Erik to flee up the stairs. The white fox woman growled loudly, heels slamming down as she stormed downwards—only to get thrown onto her back by one of the wolves falling against her. A loud and frustrated shriek rang out in the room.

            Nack ignored it, bounding around the room with the massive warthog in tow. The room almost seemed to shake as the massive beast barreled after him—for such a big guy, he was pretty quick on his feet. Nack was already having to resort to swerving back and forth across the room to keep the pig from actually catching up to him. Jeb was quick, but he wasn’t very good at changing directions during a chase. It took him several seconds to reorganize himself, while Nack could immediately shift and go any random direction with ease. Nack just could thank God that at least the ex-mercenary’s large size managed to provide SOME sort of disadvantage, or else the purple weasel would’ve been a red smear on the ground by now.

            He skid to a stop next to the high rise windows. Several of them had crashed down in the fray, glass and unconscious bodies littered all around his feet. Nack had no time to focus on either thing, though; Jeb slammed to a halt in front of him. The weasel spun around to face the towering creature and couldn’t help but feel that shiver return—there wasn’t really a way to not feel intimidated by Jeb the Tusk. The man dwarfed some of the tallest creatures, and seemed to be made of pure muscle. As a rather regular sized individual, it wasn’t hard to tell that no matter what Nack did, he was going to be at a disadvantage.

            So he quickly sidestepped to his left. Jeb caught the movement with amusement in his eyes, stomping to the side so that he would still be looking the sniper in the face. Carefully, Nack took another step, this time slightly upwards. His gun was cradled carefully in his shooting hand but his eyes never left contact with Jeb’s. The warthog followed the weasel’s movements in perfect tandem, raising an eyebrow in confusion. His own hand was playing across the gun at his side now; slight uncertainty had entered his eyes as the weasel slowly led him around in a circle.

            And then he ducked.

            With piles of unconscious wolves against his back, Bark lunged over the weasel to slam into Jeb. Nack stumbled to his feet, each arm caught by the remaining Hooligans. Bean chuckled mischievously. “So this was your plan the whole time all along, huh, Tooth? Corner the beast? Not bad.”

            “But not perfect either…he’s not gonna go DOWN.” Stella’s voice quaked as she watched the bear and the warthog tussle in front of them. It was true. They seemed evenly matched but Nack knew that Jeb has more stamina—he could already see the beast of a pig pushing the polar bear back against the marble floor. With a glare the weasel knocked the hands away from his arm.

            “It ain’t my plan to have Bark take him down. I need you on this, Bean. Come on.” Nack snapped, pushing forward to slam against the back of the fighting pair. Bean laughed loudly and followed in the weasel’s path, ramming right against the yellow fur to push heavily against the bear’s back. Bark gave them both a questioning look, but quickly caught on when he looked beyond Jeb’s shoulder—the ice cold air fluttering in from the broken window. All together they pushed, and Jeb finally slid back. Nack’s eyes widened and he held back a cackle.

            He hadn’t thought that would work.

            “Push harder, ya goddamn lunatic!” Nack shouted to neither Hooligan in particular. Bark flexed his shoulders tightly and shoved forward; the warthog’s eyes widened as, with the weight of all three mercenaries against himself, he took a tremendous slide backwards. A cautious glance was chanced back at the window that he was heading for, a grim snort puffing out from his nose.

            “Nice try. Th’ weight a’ three, it’s a good effort to make against me. Ya idiots really do try your HARDEST, don’tcha?!” Jeb chortled; with a quick shove, all three of them were pushed away from the window. Not quite as much as all three had managed against Jeb, but still enough to cause concern. “Ya should know by now, Nack. There are two times when I try my hardest. When I’m bein’ paid on pretty sum, and when I’m feelin’ the humble call of revenge. And unfortunately for you, both bells are ringin’ right now. All in the hands of the reaper, boy. All in the hands of the reaper.”

            “D-dammit…!” Nack choked out, pushing his strength against the bear’s back; aside him he could see Bean turning around to push as hard as he could against the flow of Jeb’s strength. It wasn’t showing as much anymore—they weren’t getting nearly as much shove as they needed.

            They wouldn’t be able to get him off that cliff side.

            Nack was ready to give up, he honestly was, for the first time in his life. But to his surprise, a smaller weight pressed up against him—a little fox girl shoving all of her minimal strength against them in order to help. Stella’s dress was torn to shreds at this point, her hair fallen apart into a mess, and still she managed to press on. At her side, paws firmly placed on the bear’s back, was her red fox uncle. He sent an awkward smile over to the weasel. For a moment, Nack simply stared at both of them, and then a grin broke out across his face to reveal his massive fang.

            “PUSH, YA GODDAMN IDIOTS!”           

            The panic was clear in Jeb’s eyes as his feet scraped against the side of the window; behind him was a waiting plunge of who knew how many feet down. But they all knew it was into a cold, dark, and unwelcoming abyss. For the first time, fear seemed to cross into the warthog’s eyes as he glanced back at the Hooligans, right before his hooves went past the point of no return and slipped out from underneath him. With a harsh shout, Jeb the Tusk plummeted down beyond them as the five all collapsed on top of each other.

            It was silent in the ballroom for a few minutes as they caught their breath. Even Bean seemed to finally have nothing to say or laugh at, simply to curl up near Bark’s head to pat the bear on the head. Nack threw his head back to rest against the yellow furred back, Stella laying across his lap and his uncle collapsed by their side. Slowly but surely, a laugh started to erupt out of him. The others in the pile joined in quickly, forgetting themselves just to enjoy their triumphs for a moment.

            “Shut UP!”

            The loud sound of a heel clacking echoed across the ballroom as Vanessa stood, panting and frustrated, in front of the Hooligans. Stella immediately shrunk backwards; Nack pushed the girl behind his back and rose to his feet with the girl’s uncle. Eric’s eyes were cautious, with a clear drop of disappointment reflected in them. His wife didn’t even bother to notice; she simply stomped up to them and shoved her husband backwards against the bear to fume in Nack’s face.

            “Stop your LAUGHING! I’ve been planning this for YEARS, for YEARS, I poured piles of money into hiring the most efficient mercenaries and hiring the most effective guards! I specially rig this chandelier to drop, even when its not originally supposed to! I buy the silence of every idiot in the world and then YOU and your little IDIOTS come along!!” She screeched in his face. Nack made to reply, but Stella stepped between the two of them and pushed her aunt backwards. Vanessa stared at her through frayed banged, not seeming to believe what had just happened. Then her eyes narrowed again and she stepped back up to them to shove the girl back into the purple mercenary with a shriek.

            “And YOU. You little BRAT. Everything was going just fine and dandy until you decided you needed to go FIND YOUR PARENTS.” Vanessa leaned down and roughly pinched the girl’s cheeks. “They were in a damn CAR CRASH and you just gotta think they still AWIVE, don’t you?! You couldn’t just stay where you were and play your role, oh no, you had to run off and cause me trouble instead of—“

            “Instead of just dying for YOU?!” Stella screamed. Vanessa released her cheek, raising a curious brow. Then the girl’s aunt grinned.

            “Yes. Don’t you know your place? I’m older than you, I’ve been around this fortune longer than you, and I deserve it more than you.” Vanessa cooed, closing in on the girl again—she was met with a barrel of a gun in her face as Nack dragged the girl back against himself. She looked into it for a few moments and then her eyes travelled up to meet the weasel’s gaze. “You. You’re a pathetic mercenary. Real mercenaries don’t get attached to their client. And all it did you was absolutely nothing. This is my estate, my fortune, and eventually this is going to be my dead niece. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

            “There is something I can, though.” Nack started when Eric pushed him aside, eyes full of resentment—all directed at his wife. Vanessa bit her lip and stepped back. “How long have you been playing this game, Vanessa? Don’t answer, because I don’t care. But I do have open access to the Frost family bankrolls and bankkeepers. All I have to do is access them. Because you used our fortune to fund this little exploit of yours, didn’t you?”

            No answer from the older woman; she just bit her lip harder.

            “As I would’ve though. Well, I’m closing it down. And I’m closing down your operation. For good. I’m opening the books to the whole thing and I’m sure the police will be interested to see what you’ve been putting our money into. I’m ashamed in you, Vanessa. And ashamed that I would’ve married someone willing to do something like this. All I can give you credit for is that you’re a very good actress.” Eric snapped. Vanessa’s entire face seemed to fall at the mention of the police. “You’re going to be behind bars for a while, my dear, and it isn’t going to be with a niece you can get to…or a husband.”

            “Eric, you can’t—“

            “I can and I will.” The red fox turned to his niece with a sad smile. Stella simply clutched against Nack’s leg harder, looking up at him with eyes threatening to tear up. “I’m sorry, my dear. I’m sorry this had to happen.” He looked up to the Hooligans again. “And…to you three. You didn’t have to get dragged into this. And you did a lot for Stella despite all of that. I can’t imagine how I could repay you all.”

            “There’s a lovely pink diamond that has been calling our names…” Nack said, scratching the back of his head. Stella peered nervously to the side as her uncle cocked his head to the side in confusion.

            “What pink diamond?”

            “Th’ pink diamond. She offered it to us in exchange for our service as mercenaries. It’s gotta be worth somewhere in the hundred millions, easily.” Nack explained. Eric’s face contorted slightly, biting back a smile as Stella creeped away from the weasel cautiously. “What? What’s going on?”

            “That, uh, pink diamond of hers…is a toy. A replica, so to say. It’s a very well done replica, but it’s a replica none the less. It LOOKS very real, but its not actually worth very much money.” Eric explained as Stella buried herself underneath one of Bark’s arms to avoid Nack’s flabbergasted expression. “All in all, that ‘diamond’ of hers is worth about…maybe ten dollars.”

            Nack stared blankly ahead.

            Then he let out a scream that reverberated off of the ballroom walls.


	16. Epilogue

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

 

 

            It had taken Nack several hours to calm his frothing rage at the fake diamond. In the end he had been quelled by a rather large check written out by Eric, though the sum had been raised a few times before the weasel was finally satisfied. Bark and Bean had mostly stayed to the side while Nack argued it out with the Frost estate, the former nursing his own wounds and the latter chuckling at the Hooligan team leader’s erratic behavior. Stella had sat between them wearing an expression of pity that barely masked the smile tugging at her lips and the snorting laughs that emerged as she watched the purple weasel.

            Now, though, they all stood in front of the Frost estate with the Marvelous Queen parked and loaded with its passengers. Nack himself stood to the side of the vehicle, checking over the signature of the check with a very exasperated looking Eric. Stella was peeking around her uncle’s legs to watch the exchange—how she was able to even move was beyond the weasel. Her uncle had loaded her down in multiple sweaters, socks, and scarfs overtop her usual pink jacket. The child seemed to be having a bit of trouble moving about in it.

            It was not enough trouble to suppress her occasional giggles, Nack noted with irritation.

            He slapped the red fox’s hand away carelessly and shoved the man to the side, stuffing the check into his hat with a scowl soon fixated on the small arctic fox. Her eyes widened and her ears flattened down as the bounty hunter glared down at her—with a sigh the weasel bent down on one knee and placed a hand on her head awkwardly. He was only rewarded with a look of confusion from the girl.

            “You’re a rotten little brat, you know that?” He finally said.

            “If it makes it any better, I didn’t WANT to scam anyone. I just didn’t think anyone would take on my job if I didn’t have anything to pay them with.” Stella averted her eyes down to the piles of snow that her boots were buried in. “Y’guys seemed like the right guys for the job. And the greediest.”

            “…Well, at least you got one thing right. I’m definitely the greediest for the job. You’re a good judge of character, I’ll give you that.” Nack groaned, his face falling off the girl’s head to smother her face. A small squeak of protest emerged from the child as she flailed to bat his hand away. The weasel grinned wickedly. “…Look. I’ve said it before and I sure as hell am gonna say it again. I ain’t good with kids. Don’t really like all that noise with the brats and whatnot. But’cha know, kid, I kinda enjoyed hanging out with you. Even if you almost got me killed a few times.”

            “I kinda figured almost getting killed just came with the territory of being a bounty hunter.” Stella commented. Nack dipped his head to hide his growing grin.

            “You little shit.”

            The snow fell softly around them all as the weasel pulled the little girl into an awkward hug. With a holler, Bean jumped out of his seat to jump onto them all and cling to the two. Bark followed quickly, a small smile peaking out the side of his scarf as he enveloped all three of them in his massive yellow arms to pick them up. Both the bird and the fox shrieked in delight, Bean’s legs kicking both Bark’s stomach and Nack’s legs. The weasel hit the bird across the head irately.

            From a distance, the red fox uncle watched them all fall into the snow to laugh together. He watched, curiously, as Stella jumped up enthusiastically to chase after Bean in the snow. He watched as the purple weasel followed suit, realizing that the duck had taken his revolver. Eric Fairfield watched as his niece was lifted up without a care and thrown onto the weasel’s back as they took chase after Bean, their larger companion just collapsing in defeat next to the red fox.

            “…You know, I’ve never seen her smile like that.” Eric commented. Bark stole a glance at the fox. “Nor have I ever seen her laugh like that, or even enjoy herself at all. Stella has never enjoyed a single day living at Frost Manor as far I can tell. Not that I would be able to tell at all, since I barely know her—I only married Vanessa last year. And her sister was still alive back then.”

            “…Sometimes, I would wonder. And now I realize that I’m still wondering. Am I fit caretaker for this child? Surely, I can give Stella three round meals a day and the best education that money can offer. But I just don’t think I can offer her anything like this. I can’t imagine anyone being happy to continue being prisoner at the place where they were just lucky to wake up not being killed by their family. Much less waking up to a family that would stimulate her, care for her, and love her.”

            “What’re ya all blabbin’ about?” Nack huffed, collapsing by the bear as Bean made his way back around to climb up on Bark’s shoulder—where the weasel couldn’t reach him without a firearm. Which the duck was currently waving around without abandon. Bark rolled his eyes and reached up to wrestle it from Bean’s hands, dropping the weapon in the snow.

            “I was just commenting on how nice it is that you get along with Stella so well. All of you.” Eric seemed almost lost in thought. “Nack, isn’t it? Yes?”

            “That’d be it, though sometimes I go by my business name. Fang the Sniper. Sounds cooler. Especially the Fang part. Or maybe it’s the Sniper part. Its just a lot more intimidating, you know?” Nack rambled. Stella laughed, seated on the side of his back. “Oh, think that’s funny, huh? I’m call you Brat the Trickster from now on.”

            “Trickster sounds cool!”

            “Kinda does, don’t it? Damn it.”

            “Nack.” Eric cleared his throat; the weasel looked back to him with a lopsided grin. “Could you give me the check again, please?”

            “What? You ain’t gonna cut the costs again, are you? Because I’ll have you know that I’m an expert forger and I’ll give my money however I gotta.” Nack said suspiciously, pulling the paper out of his hat to hand to the red fox. Eric shook his head, pulling a pen out to scribble on the check before handing it back to the Hooligan. Nack looked at it speculatively before his eyes widened. “Damn, fancypants! I don’t know what prompted THIS but I’ll TAKE it!”

            “What is it, what IS it?” Bean whined, jumping down to peer over the weasel’s shoulder. His mouth promptly fell open in shock. “God DAMN.”

            “Hate to press my luck because this is some good luck, but what’s with the sudden generous donation?” Nack asked, sitting up. Stella fell into the snow behind him with a shriek, popping out to shove the weasel with her lips pursed together in annoyance. It went ignored.

            “Nack, I realize that you and your kin are not good folks. You’re rather bad, as a matter of fact. I do my research, after all. And you all have a lot of information out there.” Eric shot them a judgmental look with a raised brow. “However, I can’t deny that you seem to provide Stella with something that I can’t quite give her. She likes being around you three, and it seems to make her a much happier person. And ultimately what one learns outside of formal education is just as important as what one learns within in. So I am handing you that check as something of an overhead, so to say. To take on a ‘job’ for the Frost family.”

            Nack had a feeling what was coming, but stood up to push the snow off his fur and squared his eyes with Eric’s. “What’re we sayin’ here? What kind of job?”

            “For a time period currently undecided, I’m asking Team Hooligan to take on Stella as its ward. Let her see the world, so to say, and let her make her own decisions. I have never before seen her stand up to her supposed superiors like she did with her aunt…and I can only assume that such confidence was instilled in her by being around your group.” Eric explained. “We would of course prefer if she was left out of more unsavory jobs you take on, but she needs to see the world. She needs that confidence to stand up to those bigger than her. And she needs it from those that she trusts, cares for, and thinks of as family.”

            Eric cleared his throat, a forlorn smile crossing his features. “And right now, I believe that you three would be the best for that job. So…will you take that raise in money and Stella along with it?”

            Silence overtook the blustery field of snow. Bean had scrambled over to try and squeeze behind Bark to hide—the bear simply took the bird and shoved him in the green scarf adorning his furred neck. Nack glanced at the check, to Eric, to Stella, and back to the check. Finally he sighed with some forced irritation, taking off his hat to shove the check back into it as his free hand caught Stella around the waist to lift up and carry at his side.

            “You goddamn rich people always gotta say shit in this fancy-shmancy way. Good lord. You think I’ll turn down a paying job THAT easy? Babysit a kid for thousands of dollars, oh yeah, I’m totally gonna say no.” Nack snorted as he tossed the white fox into one of the passenger’s cars. The other two Hooligans quickly followed in after her, the entire car giving a heavy shift to one side when Bark squeezed into his car. The bear shrugged nonchalantly when Nack glared at him. The weasel sighed, then turned his attention back to the kid sandwiched next to Bean. “You’re a temporary Hooligan now, okay, kid? You gotta act the part.”

            “So I gotta be mean and conniving and confident?” Stella questioned with a smarmy grin. Nack chuckled.

            “As if. You gotta work your way up to the big leagues, kid.” Nack turned back to the girl’s uncle as he climbed into the driver’s seat of the Marvelous Queen—the worry was apparently on Eric’s face. “Thanks for the extra money, fancypants. We’ll take good of your little princess.”

            And Eric Fairfield watched as the airbike erupted into the sky, leaving the Frost Manor and all its ugly history behind. The man sighed and shook his head, wondering if his decision had truly been the best one—then clicked his tongue at his own thoughts. There was no need for that kind of concern or worry. The Hooligans had already proven they could keep her alive…and make her better, too.

            He chuckled, turning back to the steps of the Frost Manor wistfully. One day that little girl would return, a very different person. Maybe a rougher person. But, he figured, maybe it would be better for her to become rougher than become as vicious like her other family members. And maybe, just maybe, he thought…

            Maybe when she comes back different, they’ll come back different too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are officially done! This was fun to write, even though a lot of work and school conflict irl has been conflicting with my ability to actually FINISH it. But we've finally reached the goalposts, folks, and I'm glad to be here. I can only hope that my readers are just as happy to be here as I am. Thank you so much for reading my weird little delve into making Sonic OCs for the first time.


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